THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


IN  MEMORY  OF 

PROFESSOR 
EUGENE  I.  McCORMAC 


IT 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1854,  by 

MASON    BROTHEK8, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1868,  by 

TICKNOR    AND     FIELDS, 
in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


r  t  i  a  c  t  * 


JUSTICE,  alike  to  the  author  and  to  his  subject,  demands 
the  explicit  statement  of  a  fact. 

Horace  Greeley  is  wholly  innocent  of  this  book.  Until  I 
had  determined  to  write  it,  I  had  no  acquaintance  with  him  of 
a  personal  nature,  and  no  connection  except  that  which  exists 
between  every  subscriber  to  the  Tribune  and  its  editor. 
Since  that  time,  I  have  had  a  few  short  interviews  with  him — 
heard  and  overheard  a  few  facts  of  his  career  from  his  own  lips 
—had  two  or  three  of  my  best  stories  spoiled  by  his  telling 
me  that  that  part  of  them  which  redounded  most  to  his  credit 
was  untrue.  He  has  had  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  the  com 
position  of  the  volume,  nor  has  he  seen  a  page  of  it  in  manu 
script  or  proof,  nor  does  he  know  one  word  of  its  contents. 

I  undertook  the  task  simply  and  solely  because  I  liked  the 
man,  because  I  gloried  in  his  career,  because  I  thought  the 
story  of  his  life  ought  to  be  told. 

The  writings  of  an  editor  usually  pass  away  with  the  occa 
sions  that  caJed  them  forth.  They  may  have  aroused,  amused, 


iv  PREFACE. 

instructed  and  advanced  a  nation — many  nations.  They  may 
have  saved  or  overturned  systems  and  dynasties ;  provoked  or 
prevented  wars,  revolutions  and  disasters ;  thrown  around 
Prejudice  and  Bigotry  the  decent  mantle  of  Respectability,  or 
*orn  it  off;  made  great  truths  familiar  and  fruitful  in  the  pub 
lic  mind,  or  given  a  semblance  of  dignity  to  the  vulgar  hue 
and  cry  which  assails  such  truths  always  when  they  are  new. 
These  things,  and  others  equally  important,  an  editor  may  do, 
editors  have  done.  But  he  rarely  has  leisure  to  produce  a 
WORK  which  shall  perpetuate  his  name  and  personal  influence. 
A  collection  of  his  editorial  writings  will  not  do  it,  for  he  is 
compelled  to  write  hastily,  diffusely,  and  on  the  topics  of  the 
hour.  The  story  of  his  life  may.  It  is  the  simple  narratives 
in  Franklin's  autobiography  that  have  perpetuated,  not  the 
name  of  that  eminent  man,  the  thunder  and  lightning  have  his 
name  in  charge,  but  the  influence  of  his  personality  in  forming 
the  characters  of  his  countrymen. 

The  reader  has  a  right  to  know  the  manner  in  which  the  facts 
and  incidents  of  this  work  were  obtained.  I  procured,  first  of 
all,  from  various  sources,  a  list  of  Mr.  Greeley's  early  friends, 
partners  and  relations ;  also,  a  list  of  the  places  at  which  he 
has  resided.  All  of  those  places  I  visited  ;  with  as  many  of 
those  persons  as  I  could  find  I  conversed,  and  endeavored  to 
extract  from  them  all  they  knew  of  the  early  life  of  my  hero. 
From  their  narratives,  and  from  the  letters  of  others  to  whom 
I  wrote,  the  account  of  his  early  life  was  compiled.  To  all  of 
them,  for  the  readiness  with  which  they  made  their  communi 
cations,  to  many  of  them  for  their  generous  and  confiding  hos- 


PREFACE.  V 

pitality  to  a  stranger,  I  again  offer  the  poor  return  of  my  sin 
cere  thanks. 

For  the  rest,  I  am  indebted  to  the  following  works  :  E.  L. 
Parker's  History  of  Londonderry ;  the  Bedford  Centennial  > 
the  New  Hampshire  Book  ;  the  Rose  of  Sharon  ;  the  Life  of 
Margaret  Fuller ;  Horace  Greeley's  Hints  towards  Reforms, 
and  Glances  at  Europe ;  also,  to  files  of  the  New  Yorker,  Log 
Cabin,  Jeffersonian,  American  Laborer,  Whig  Almanac,  and 
Tribune.  Nearly  every  number — there  are  more  than  five 
thousand  numbers  in  all— of  each  of  those  periodicals,  I  have 
examined,  and  taken  from  them  what  they  contain  respecting 
the  life  and  fortunes  of  their  editor. 

This  book  is  as  true  as  I  could  make  it ;  nothing  has  been  in 
serted  or  suppressed  for  the  sake  of  making  out  a  case.  Er 
rors  of  detail  in  a  work  containing  so  many  details  as  this  can 
scarcely  be  avoided ;  but  upon  the  correctness  of  every  import 
ant  statement,  and  upon  the  general  fidelity  of  the  picture 
presented,  the  reader  may  rely.  Horace  Greeley,  as  the  read 
er  will  discover,  has  been  a  marked  person  from  his  earliest 
childhood,  and  he  is  remembered  by  his  early  friends  with  a 
vividness  and  affection  very  extraordinary.  Moreover,  in  the 
political  and  personal  contentions  of  his  public  life,  he  has  fre 
quently  been  compelled  to  become  autobiographical ;  therefore, 
in  this  volume  he  often  tells  his  own  story.  That  he  tells  it 
truly,  that  he  is  incapable  of  insincerity,  every  one  with  truth 
enough  in  his  heart  to  recognize  truth  in  others  will  perceive. 

The  opinion  has  been  recently  expressed  that  the  life  of  a 
man  ought  not  to  be  written  in  his  lifetime.  Tr  which,  among 


\i  PREFACE. 

many  other  things,  this  might  be  replied  :  If  the  lives  of  pol 
iticians  like  Tyler,  Pierce,  and  others,  may  be  written  in 
their  lifetime,  with  a  view  to  subserve  the  interests  of  party, 
why  may  not  the  life  of  Horace  Greeley,  in  the  hope  of  sub 
serving  the  interests  of  the  country  1  Besides,  those  who  think 
this  work  ought  not  to  have  been  written  are  at  liberty  not  to 
read  it. 

There  are  those  who  will  read  it ;  and,  imperfect  as  it  is,  with 
pleasure.  They  are  those  who  have  taken  an  interest  in  Hor 
ace  Greeley's  career,  and  would  like  to  know  how  he  carne  to 
be  the  man  he  is.  J.  P. 

Nnw  YORK,  December,  1864, 


PREFACE 

TO    THE   NEW   EDITION. 

THE  first  edition  of  this  work  appeared  in  the  year  1854, 
and  found  much  favor  with  a  part  of  the  public.  During  the 
last  ten  years  it  has  been  out  of  print,  and  I  did  not  suppose 
there  would  ever  be  occasion  to  revive  it.  It  appears,  how 
ever,  that  it  is  still  frequently  called  for,  and  I  do  not  see  any 
good  reason  why  those  who  desire  copies  should  not  have  their 
wish  gratified.  I  have  been  repeatedly  informed  that  the  book, 
with  all  its  crudities  and  imperfections,  has  been  of  some  ser 
vice  to  the  young  men  of  the  country.  I  therefore  willingly 
consent  to  the  publication  of  a  new  edition,  which  was  sug 
gested  by  valued  friends.  To  make  the  work  somewhat  less 
incomplete,  a  few  chapters  have  been  added,  in  which  the 
more  recent  events  of  Mr.  Greeley's  life  are  related,  chiefly 
in  his  own  words.  After  the  lapse  of  so  many  years,  it  would 
be  impossible  for  me  to  continue  the  work  in  the  spirit  in 
which  it  was  conceived ;  and  as  the  editor  of  the  Tribune  is 
generally  compelled  to  relate  and  explain  his  own  actions,  it 
is  altogether  best  to  use  his  own  graphic  and  lively  nar 
ratives. 

I  should  add,  perhaps,  that  this  new  edition  was  prepared 
for  the  press,  and  in  the  printers*  hands,  before  the  publica 


PREFACE. 

tion  of  Mr.  Greeley's  "Recollections"  in  the  New  York 
Ledger  had  been  contemplated.  Mr.  Bonner's  announcement 
of  that  series  of  papers  caused  us  to  lay  aside  our  project  for 
a  time,  and  it  was  resumed  only  after  I  had  received  from 
Mr.  Greeley  an  assurance  that  he  had  no  objection  to  our 
going  on. 

J    P. 
NEW  YORK,  June,  1868. 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 

STEEL  PORTRAIT  BY  EITCUIH. 
PULL  LENGTH  PORTRAIT  ON  WOOD. 
HORACE  GREELEY'S  BIRTH-PLACE. 
WHERE  GREELEY  ATTENDED  SCHOOL. 
GREELEY'S  ARRIVAL  IN  NEW  YORK. 
EDITORIAL  ROOMS — GREELEY  AND  DANA. 
FAC-SIMILE  OP  EDITORIAL  MS. 
VIEW  OF  THE  TRIBUNE  BUELDIKGS 
COUNTRY  RESIDENCE  OF  HORACE  GREELEY, 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  I. 

THE     SCOTCH-IRISH     OF     NEW     HAMPSHIRE. 

PAOl 

Londonderry  in  Ireland— The  Siege— Emigration  to  New  England— Settlement  of 
Londonderry,  New  Hampshire— The  Scotch-Irish  introduce  the  culture  of  the 
potato  and  the  manufacture  of  linen — Character  of  the  Scotch-Irish — Their  sim 
plicity—Love  of  fun— Stories  of  the  early  clergymen— Traits  in  the  Scotch-Irish 
character — Zeal  of  the  Londonderrians  in  the  Revolution — Horace  Greeley's  al 
usion  to  his  Scotch-Irish  ancestry Id 

CHAPTER  II. 

ANCESTORS. PARENTAGE. BIRTH. 

Origin  of  the  Family— Old  Captain  Ezekiel  Greeley— Zaccheus  Greeley— Zaccheus 
the  Second — Roughness  and  Tenacity  of  the  Greeley  race — Maternal  Ancestors  of 
Horace  Greeley— John  Woodburn— Character  of  Horace  Greeley's  Great-grand 
mother — His  Grandmother — Romantic  Incident — Horace  Greeley  is  born  "as 
black  as  a  chimney"— Comes  to  his  color— Succeeds  to  the  name  of  Horace -28 

CHAPTER  III. 

EARLY     CHILDHOOD. 

The  Village  of  Amherst — Character  of  the  adjacent  country — The  Greeley  farm — 
The  Tribune  In  the  room  in  which  its  Editor  was  born— Horace  learns  to  read- 
Book  up-side  down — Goes  to  school  in  Londonderry — A  district  school  forty 
years  ago— Horace  as  a  young  orator — Has  a  mania  for  spelling  hard  words — 
Gets  great  glory  at  the  spelling  school— Recollections  of  his  surviving  schoolfel 
lows — His  future  eminence  foretold— Delicacy  of  ear— Early  choice  of  a  trade — 
His  coiir.-ige  and  timidity — Goes  to  school  in  Bedford — A  favorite  among  his 
schoolfellows— His  early  fondness  for  the  village  newspaper— Lies  in  ambush  for 
the  post-rider  who  brought  it— Scours  the  country  for  books — Project  of  sending 
him  to  an  academy — The  old  sea-captain — Horace  as  a  farmer's  boy — Let  us  do 
our  stint  first — His  way  of  fishing 31 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

HIS     FATHER     R'JINE  D — R  EMOVAL     TO     VERMONT. 

PAGE 

New  Hampshire  before  the  era  of  manufactures — Causes  of  his  father's  failure — 
Rum  in  the  olden  time — An  execution  in  the  house — Flight  of  the  father — Horace 
nud  the  Rum  Jug— Compromise  with  the  creditors— Removal  to  another  farm- 
Final  rui ii— Removal  to  Vermont— The  winter  journey— Poverty  of  the  family- 
Scene  ut  their  new  home— Cheerfulness  in  misfortune 52 


CHAPTER  V. 

AT     WESTHAVEN,     VERMONT. 

Description  of  the  country — Clearing  up  Land — All  the  family  assist  a  la  Swiss- 
Fmnily-Robinson— Primitive  costume  of  Horace— His  early  indifference  to  dress 
— His  manner  and  altitude  in  school — A  Peacemaker  among  the  boys — Gets  into 
a  scrupe,  and  out  of  it — Assists  his  school-fellows  in  their  studies — An  evening 
scene  at  home — Horace  knows  too  much — Disconcerts  his  teachers  by  his  ques 
tions—Leaves  school— The  pine-knots  still  blaze  on  the  hearth— Reads  incessant 
ly — Becomes  a  great  draught  player — Bee-hunting — Reads  at  the  Mansion  House 
—Taken  for  an  Idiot— And  for  a  possible  President— Reads  Mrs.  Hemans  with 
rapture— A  Wolf  Story— A  Pedestrian  Journey— Horace  and  the  horseman- 
Yoking  the  Oxen— Scene  with  an  old  Soaker— Rum  in  Westhaven— Horace's 
First  Pledge— Narrow  escape  from  drowning— His  religious  doubts— Becomes  a 
Unive:  salist — Discovers  the  humbug  of  "  Democracy" — Impatient  to  begin  his  ap 
prenticeship -..._  57 


CHAPTER  VI. 

A  PPR  ENTICE  SHIP. 

The  Village  of  East  Poultney— Horace  applies  for  the  Place— Scene  in  the  Garden 
— fie  makes  an  Impression — A  difficulty  arises  and  is  overcome — He  enters  the 
office— Rite  of  Initiation— Horace  the  Victor— His  employer's  recollections  of  him 
— The  Pack  of  Cards — Horace  begins  to  paragraph — Joins  the  Debating  Society — 
His  manner  of  Debating — Horace  and  the  Dandy — His  noble  conduct  to  his 
father — His  first  glimpse  of  Saratoga — His  manners  at  the  Table — Becomes  the 
Town-Encyclopedia— The  Doctor's  Slo'y— Recollections  of  one  of  his  fellow  ap 
prentices — Horace's*  favorite  Poets — Politics  of  the  time — The  Anti-Mason  Excite 
ment—  Ti.e  Northern  Spectator  stops— Tlie  Apprentice  is  Free 


CONTENTS.  XI 

CHAPTER  VII. 

HE     WANDERS. 

PAOB 

Horace  loaves  Poultney— His  first  Overcoat— Home  to  his  Father's  Log  House— 
Ranges  the  country  for  work— The  Sore  Leg  Cured— Gets  Employment,  tr.it  litile 
Money— Astonishes  the  Draught-PIaj  ers— Goes  to  Erie,  Pa.— Interview  with  an 
Editor— Becomes  a  Journeyman  in  the  Office— Description  of  Erie— The  Lake— 
His  Generosity  to  his  Father— His  new  clothes— No  more  work  ht  Erie— Starts  for 
New  York — ~  106 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

ARRIVAL     IN     NEW     YORK. 

The  journey— a  night  on  the  tow-path— He  reaches  the  city— Inventory  of  his  prop 
erty—Looks  for  a  boarding-house— Finds  one— Expends  half  his  capital  upon 
clothes — Searches  for  employment — Berated  by  David  Hale  as  a  runaway  ap 
prentice—Continues  the  search— Goes  to  church— Hears  of  a  vacancy— Obtains 

work — The  boss  takes  him  for  a  * fool,'  but  changes  his  opinion — Nicknamed 

'the  Ghost'— Practical  jokes— Horace  metamorphosed— Dispute  about  commas 
— The  shoemaker's  boarding-house— Grand  banquet  on  Sundays llrt 


CHAPTER  IX. 

PROM     OFFICE     TO     OFFICE. 

Leaves  West's— Works  on  the  'Evening  Post'— Story  of  Mr.  Leggett— ' Commer 
cial  Advertiser '— *  Spirit  of  the  Times  '—Specimen  of  his  writing  at  this  period— 
Naturally  fond  of  the  drama— Timothy  Wiggins— Works  for  Mr.  Redfield— The 
flrstlift...  ..  133 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  FIRST  PENNY  PAPER — AND  WHO  THOUGHT  OF  IT 

Importance  of  the  cheap  daily  press — The  originator  of  the  idea — History  of  the 
idea— Dr.  Sheppard's  Chatham-street  cogitations— The  Idea  is  conceived— It  is 
born — Interview  with  Horace  Greeley — The  D  >ctor  thinks  he  is  'no  common  boy' 
--The  schemer  baffled — Daily  papers  twenty-five  years  ago — Dr.  Sheppard  comes 
to  a  resolution — The  firm  of  Greeley  and  Story — The  Morning  Post  appears — And 
fails— The  sphere  of  the  choap  press— Fanny  Fern  and  the  pea-nut  merchant. ...  137 


Xll  •  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XL 

THE     FIRM     CONTINUES. 

fAoa 

Lottery  printing — The  Constitutionalist — Dudley  S.  Gregory — T/ie  lottery  suicide — 
The  firm  prospers— Sudden  death  of  Mr.  Story— A  new  partner— Mr.  Greeley  as  a 
master — A  dinner  story — Sylvester  Graham — Horace  Greeley  at  the  Graham 
House— The  New  Yorker  projected— James  Gordon  Bennett. .  ]4(' 

CHAPTER  XII. 

EDITOR  OF  THE  NEW  YORKER. 

Character  of  the  paper— Its  early  fortunes— Happiness  of  the  Editor— Scene  in  the 
Office — Specimens  of  Horace  Greeley's  Poetry — Subjects  of  his  Essays — His  Opin 
ions  then— His  Marriage— The  Silk-stocking  Story— A  day  in  Washington— His 
impressions  of  the  Senate — Pecuniary  difficulties — Cause  of  the  New  Yorker's  ill- 
success  as  a  Business — The  missing  letters — The  Editor  gets  a  nickname — The 
Agonies  of  a  Debtor— Park  Benjamin— Henry  J.  Raymond 151 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE     JEFFERSONI AN. 

Objects  of  tho  Jeffersonian— Its  character— A  novel  Glorious-Victory  paragraph— 
The  Graves  and  Cilley  duel— The  Editor  overworked 174 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE     LOG     CABIN  . — u  TIPPEOANOE     AND     TYLER     TOO." 

Wire-pulling— The  delirium  of  1840— The  Log  Cabin— Unprecedented  hit— A 
glance  at  its  pages— Log  Cabin  jokes— Log  Cabin  song— Horace  Greeley  and 
the  cake-basket — Pecuniary  difficulties  continue — The  Tribune  announced 180 


CHAPTER  XV. 

STARTS     THE     TEIBUNE. 

The  Capital— The  Daily  Press  of  New  York  in  JWI-  The  Tribune  appears—The 
Omens  unpropitious— The  first  wet-k  -  Ooaspircqy  to  pnt  down  the  Tribune— The 
Tribune  triumphs— Thomas  McElrath-  The  TTibODO  fame— Industry  of  the  Edi 
tors  -Their  independence— Horuoe  3:r«icy  UT/1  vkmn  Tyler— The  Tribune  a 
Fixed  Fact.  .  ...~~,  19; 


CONTENTS.  Xill 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE     TKIBUNE     AND     FOURIERISM. 

PAQK 

What  uade  Horace  Greeley  a  Socialist — The  hard  winter  of  1838 — Albert  Brisbane 
—The-  subject  broached— Series  of  articles  by  Mr.  Brisoane  begun— Their  effect- 
Cry  of  Mad  Dog— Discussion  between  Horace  Greeley  and  Henry  J.  Raymond- 
How  it  arose— Abstract  of  it  in  a  conversational  form IDS 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
THE    TRIBUNE'S    SECOND    TEAK. 

Increase  of  price — The  Tribune  offends  the  Sixth  Ward  fighting-men — The  office 
Threatened — Novel  preparations  for  defense — Charles  Dickens  defended — The 
Editor  travels— Visits  Washington,  and  sketches  the  Senators— At  Mount  Vernon 
-At  Niagara— A  hard  hit  at  Major  Noah 217 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE     TRIBUNE     AND     J.     FENIMOEE     OOOPEE. 

The  libel— Horace  Greeley's  narrative  of  the  trial— He  reviews  the  opening  speech 
of  Mr.  Cooper's  counsel — A  striking  illustration — He  addresses  the  jury — Mr. 
Cooper  sums  up — Horace  Greelcy  comments  on  the  speech  of  the  novelist — In 
doing  BO  he  perpetrates  new  libels — The  verdict — Mr.  Greeley's  remarks  on  the 
same— Strikes  a  bee-line  for  New  York— A  new  suit— An  imaginary  case 224 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE     TRIBUNE     CONTINUES. 

The  Special  Express  system— Night  adventures  of  Enoch  Ward— Gig  Express— Ex 
press  from  Halifax — Baulked  by  the  snow-drifts — Party  warfare  then — Books 
published  by  Greeley  and  McElrath— Course  of  the  Tribune— The  Editor  travels 
— Scenes  in  Washington — An  incident  of  travel — Clay  and  Frelinghuysen — The 
exertions  of  Horace  Greeley — Results  of  the  defeat — The  Tribune  and  Slavery 
—Burning  of  the  Tribune  Building— The  Editor's  reflections  upon  the  fire 240 


CHAPTER  XX. 

MARGARET     FULLER. 

Her  writings  in  the  Tribune— She  resides  with  Mr.  Greeley — His  narrative — Dietetic 
Sparring— Her  manner  of  writing— Woman's  Rights—Her  generosity— Her  inde 
pendence — Her  love  of  children — Margaret  and  Pickie — Her  opinion  of  Mr.  Groe- 
ley— Death  of  Pickie 253 


xiv  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

EDITORIAL     REPARTEES. 

PA  61 

\t  war  with  all  the  world— The  spirit  of  the  Tribune— Retorts  vituperative— The 
Tribune  and  Dr.  Potts— Some  prize  tracts  suggested— An  atheist's  oath— A  word 
for  domestics — Irish  Democracy — The  modern  drama — Hit  at  Dr.  Hawks — Disso 
lution  of  the  Union— Dr.  Franklin's  story— A  Picture  for  Polk— Charles  Dickens 
and  Copyright — Charge  of  malignant  falsehood — Preaching  and  Practice — Col. 
Webb  severely  hit— Hostility  to  the  Mexican  war— Violence  incited— .A  few 
sparks— The  course  of  the  Tribune— Wager  with  the  Herald 262 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

1848! 

Revolution  In  Europe— The  Tribune  exults— The  Slievegammon  letters— Ta>  l 
Fillmore — Course  of  the  Tribune — Horace  Greeley  at  Vauxhall  Garden — His  elec 
tion  to  Congress 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THREE     MONTHS     IN     CONGRESS. 

His  objects  as  a  Member  of  Congress— His  first  acts— The  Chaplain  hypocrisy— The 
Land  Reform  Bill — Distributing  the  Documents — Offers  a  novel  Resolution — Tlie 
Mileage  Expose— Congressional  delays— Explosion  in  the  House— Mr.  Turner's 
oration— Mr.  Greeley  defends  himself— The  Walker  Tariff— Congress  in  a  pet- 
Speech  at  the  Printer's  Festival— The  house  in  good  humor— Traveling  dead 
head—Personal  explanations — A  dry  haul — The  amendment  game — Congressi--n- 
al  dignity— Battle  of  the  Books— The  Recruiting  System— The  last  night  of  the 
Session— The  '  usual  gratuity'— The  Inauguration  Ball— Farewell  to  his  constitu 
ents.  . .  


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

ASSOCIATION     IN     THE     TRIBUNE     OFFICE 

Accessions  to  the  corps — The  course  of  the  Tribune — Horace  Greeley  in  Ohio — The 
Rochester  knockinps — The  mediums  at  Mr.  Greeley's  house — Jenny  Lincl  goes  tc 
see  them — Her  behavior — Woman's  Rights  Convention — The  Tribune  Associ 
lion— The  hireling  sjstem 319 


CONTENTS.  XV 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

ON     THE     PLATFORM. — HINTS     TOWARDS     REFORMS. 

PAOB 

The  Lecture  System— Comparative  popularity  of  the  leading  Lecturers— Horace 
Greeley  at  the  Tabernacle— His  audience— His  appearance— His  manner  of  speak 
ing— His  occasional  addresses— The  'Hints'  published— Its  one  subject,  the 
Emancipation  of  Labor— The  Problems  of  the  Time— The  'successful'  man— The 
duty  of  the  State— The  educated  class— A  narrative  for  workingmen— Tne  catas 
trophe 326 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THREE  MONTHS  IN  EUROPE. 

The  Voyage  out— First  impression  of  England— Opening  of  the  Exhibition— Char 
acteristic  observations — He  attends  a  grand  Banquet — He  sees  the  Sights — He 
speaks  at  Exeter  Hall— The  Play  at  Devonshire  House— Robert  Owen's  birth-day 
— Horace  Greeley  before  a  Committee  of  the  House  of  Commons — He  throws 
light  upon  the  subject— Vindicates  the  American  Press— Journey  to  Paris— The 
Sights  of  Paris— The  Opera  and  Ballet— A  false  Prophet— His  opinion  of  the 
French— Journey  to  Italy— Anecdote— A  nap  in  the  Diligence— Arrival  at  Rome 
—In  the  Galleries— Scene  in  the  Coli-eum— To  England  again— Triumph  of  the 
American  Reaper— A  week  in  Ireland  and  Scotland— His  opinion  of  the  English 
—Homeward  Bound— His  arrival— The  Extra  Tribune 346 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

RECENTLY. 

Deliverance  from  Party— A  Private  Platform— Last  Interview  with  Henry  Clay- 
Horace  Greeley  a  Farmer— He  irrigates  and  drains— His  AdAnce  to  a  Young  Man 
—The  Daily  Times— A  costly  Mistake— The  Isms  of  the  Tribune— The  Tribune 
gets  Glory — The  Tribune  in  Parliament — Proposed  Nomination  for  Governor — 
His  Life  written— A  Judge's  Daughter  for  Sale 375 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

DAY     AND     NIGHT     IN     THE     TRIBUNE     OFFICE. 

The  streets  before  daybreak— Waking  the  newsboys— Morning  scene  in  the  press 
room — The  Compositor's  room— The  tour  Phalanxes — The  Tribune  Directory — A 
lull  in  the  Tribune  office— A  glance  at  the  paper— The  advertisements— Tele 
graphic  marvels — Marine  Intelligence — New  Publications — Letters  from  the  peo- 


XVI  CONTENTS. 

FAGl 

pie — Editorial  articles — The  editorial  Rooms — The  Sanctum  Sanctorum — Solon 
Robinson — Bayard  Taylor — William  Henry  Fry — George  Ripley — Charles  A.  Dana 
—  F.  J.  Ottarson— George  M.  Snow— Enter  Horace  Greeley— His  Preliminary  both 
eration—The  composing-room  in  the  evening — The  editors  at  work — Mr.  Greeley'3 
manner  of  writing — Midnight — Three  o'clock  in  the  morning — The  carriers 391 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

HORACE    GREELEY    IN    A    FRENCH     PRISON. 

Voyage  to  Europe — Visit  to  the  exhibition — At  the  tomb  of  Napoleon — Two  days  in 
the  debtors'  prison — In  London  again — Comments  of  the  editor  on  men  and  things  412 

CHAPTER    XXX. 

ASSAULTED    IN    WASHINGTON    BY     A    MEMBER    OF    CONGRESS. 

The  provocation — The  assault — Why  Mr.  Greeley  did  not  prosecute — The  Tribune  in 
dicted  in  Virginia— Correspondence  on  slavery— Slavery  ex  labor 435 

CHAPTER    XXXI. 

ACROSS    THE    PLAINS    TO    CALIFORNIA. 

Farewell  to  civilization — The  buffaloes  on  the  Plains — Conversation  with  Brigham 
Young — Remarks  upon  polygamy — Visit  to  the  Yo  Semite  Valley — Reception  at 
Sacramento — at  San  Francisco 451 

CHAPTER   XXXII. 

HORACE   GREELET    AT   THE   CHICAGO   CONVENTION    OF   1860. 

Mr.  Greeley's  reasons  for  opposing  Mr.  Seward — Mr.  Raymond's  accusation — The  pri 
vate  letter  to  Mr.  Seward— The  comments  of  Thurlow  Weed— The  three-cent  stamp 
correspondence— Mr.  Greeley  a  candidate  for  the  Senate — He  declines  a  seat  in  Mr. 
Lincoln's  Tabernacle...,  478 


CHAPTER   XXXIII. 

DURING    THE    WAR. 

Mr.  Greeley's  opinions  upon  Secession  before  the  war  began — The  battle  of  Bull 
Run — Correspondence  with  President  Lincoln — His  peace  negotiations — Assault 
upon  the  Tribune  office— Indorses  the  proffer  of  the  French  mission  to  the  editor  of 
the  Herald — He  writes  a  history  of  the  war — He  offers  prizes  for  improved  fruits.. .  495 


CONTENTS.  XV11 

CHAPTER   XXXIV. 

RECONSTRUCTION. 

PAGB 

Horace  Greeley's  plan— Hia  mediation  between  President  Johnson  and  Congress— He 
joins  in  bailing  Jefferson  Davis— His  speech  at  Richmond 526 

CHAPTER   XXXV. 

MISCELLANEOUS. 

Horace  Greeley  upon  poetry  and  the  poets— He  objects  to  being  enrolled  among  the 
poets— His  advice  to  a  country  editor— His  religious  opinions— Upon  marriage  and 
divorce— His  idea  of  an  American  college— How  he  would  bequeath  an  estate- 
How  he  became  a  protectionist— Advice  to  ambitious  young  men— To  the  lovers 
of  knowledge— To  young  lawyers  and  doctors— To  country  merphante— How  far 
he  is  a  politician— A  toast— Reply  to  begging  letters 552 


CHAPTER  XXXVL 

CONCLUSION. 

Mr.  Greeley's  appearance  and  phrenology— A  visit  to  his  residence— His  ambition 
He  does  not  coun'.  majorities * 


APPENDIX 
HORACE  GREELEY'S  ADVICE  TO  AMERICAN  FARMERS. 

An  Address  at  the  Fayette  County  Agricultural  Fair,  Connersville,  Indiana,  Sep 
tember  8,  1858 683 


HORACE  GREELBV  IN  1854J 


THE  LIFE  OF  HORACE  GREELEY, 


CHAPTER    I. 

THE   SCOTCH-IRISH  OF  NEW   HAMPSHIRE. 

L  -rfdonderry  in  Ireland  —  The  Siege  —  Emigration  to  New  England  —  Settlement  of 
Londonderry,  New  Hampshire—  The  Scotch-Irish  introduce  the  culture  of  th« 
potato  and  the  manufacture  of  linen—  Character  of  the  Scotch-Irish—  Their  sim 
plicity  —  Love  of  fun  —  Stories  of  the  early  clergymen  —  Traits  in  the  Scotch- 
Irisa  character—  Zeal  of  the  Londonderrians  in  the  Revolution—  Horace  Greeley's 
allusion  to  his  Scotch-Irish  ancestry. 


HAMPSHIRE,  the  native  State  of  Horace  Greeley,  was  set 
tled  in  part  by  colonists  from  Massachusetts  and  Connecticut,  and 
in  part  by  emigrants  from  the  north  of  Ireland.  The  latter  were 
called  Scotch-Irish,  for  a  reason  which  a  glance  at  their  history 
will  show. 

Ulster,  the  most  northern  of  the  four  provinces  of  Ireland,  has 
been,  during  the  last  two  hundred  and  fifty  years,  superior  to  the 
rest  in  wealth  and  civilization.  The  cause  of  its  superiority  is 
known.  About  the  year  1612,  when  James  I.  was  king,  there  was 
a  rebellion  of  the  Catholics  in  the  north  of  Ireland.  Upon  its  sup 
pression,  Ulster,  embracing  the  six  northern  counties,  and  contain 
ing  half  a  million  acres  of  land,  fell  to  the  king  by  the  attainder 
of  the  rebels.  Under  royal  encouragement  and  furtherance,  a  com 
pany  was  formed  in  London  for  the  purpose  of  planting  colonies  in 
that  fertile  province,  which  lay  waste  from  the  ravages  of  the  re 
cent  war.  The  land  was  divided  into  shares,  the  largest  of  which 
did  not  exceed  two  thousand  acres.  Ct  lonists  were  invited  over 
from  England  and  Scotland.  The  natives  were  expelled  from  their 
fastnesses  in  the  hills,  and  forced  to  settle  upon  the  plains.  Some 


20  THE  SCOTCH-IRISH    OF   NEW  HAMPSHIRE. 

efforts,  it  appears,  were  made  to  teach  them  arts  and  agriculture. 
Robbery  and  assassination  were  punished.  And,  thus,  by  the  in 
fusion  of  new  blood,  and  the  partial  improvement  of  the  ancient 
race,  Ulster,  which  had  been  the  most  savage  and  turbulent  of  the 
Irish  provinces,  became,  and  remains  to  this  day,  the  best  culti 
vated,  the  richest,  and  the  most  civilized. 

One  of  the  six  counties  was  Londonderry,  the  capital  of  which, 
called  by  the  same  name,  had  been  sacked  and  razed  during  the 
rebellion.  The  city  was  now  rebuilt  by  a  company  of  adventurers 
from  London,  and  the  county  was  settled  by  a  colony  from  Argyle- 
shire  in  Scotland,  who  were  thenceforth  called  Scotch-Irish.  Of 
what  stuff  these  Scottish  colonists  were  made,  their  after-history 
amply  and  gloriously  shows.  The  colony  took  root  and  flourished 
in  Londonderry.  In  1689,  the  year  of  the  immortal  siege,  the  city 
was  an  important  fortified  town  of  twenty -seven  thousand  inhabit 
ants  and  the  county  was  proportionally  populous  and  productive. 
William  of  Orange  had  reached  the  British  throne.  James  II.  re 
turning  from  France  had  landed  in  Ireland,  and  was  making  an 
effort  to  recover  his  lost  inheritance.  The  Irish  Catholics  were 
still  loyal  to  him,  and  hastened  to  rally  round  his  banner.  But 
Ulster  was  Protestant  and  Presbyterian;  the  city  of  Londonderry 
was  Ulster's  stronghold,  and  it  was  the  chief  impediment  in  the 
way  of  James'  proposed  descent  upon  Scotland.  With  what  reso 
lution  and  daring  the  people  of  Londonderry,  during  the  ever-mem 
orable  siege  of  that  city,  fought  and  endured  for  Protestantism  and 
freedom,  the  world  well  knows.  For  seven  months  they  held  out 
against  a  besieging  army,  so  numerous  that  its  slain  numbered  nine 
thousand.  The  besieged  lost  three  thousand  men.  To  such  ex 
tremities  were  they  reduced,  that  among  the  market  quotations  of 
the  times,  we  find  items  like  these:— a  quarter  of  a  dog,  five  shil 
lings  and  six-pence  ;  a  dog's  head,  two  and  six-pence ;  horse-flesh, 
one  and  six-pence  per  pound  ;  horse-blood,  one  shilling  per  quart ;  a 
cat,  four  and  six-pence;  a  rat,  one  shilling;  a  mouse,  six-pence. 
When  all  the  food  that  remained  in  the  city  was  nine  half-starved 
horses  and  a  pint  of  meal  per  man,  the  people  were  still  resolute. 
At  the  veiy  last  extremity,  they  were  relieved  by  a  provisiom-d 
fleet,  and  the  army  of  James  retired  in  despair. 

Ou  tiic  settlement  <>t'  the  kingdom  under  William  and  Mary,  the 


EMIGRATION    TO    NEW   ENGLAND.  21 

Presbyterians  of  Londonderry  did  not  find  themselves  in  the  en 
joyinent  of  the  freedom  to  which  they  conceived  themselves  enti 
tled.  They  were -dissenters  from  the  established  church.  Their 
pastors  were  not  recognized  by  the  law  as  clergymen,  nor  their 
places  of  worship  as  churches.  Tithes  were  exacted  for  the  support 
of  the  Episcopal  clergy.  They  were  not  proprietors  of  the  soil, 
but  held  their  lands  as  tenants  of  the  crown.  They  were  hated 
alike,  and  equally,  by  the  Irish  Catholics  and  the  English  Episcopa 
lians.  "When,  therefore,  in  1617,  a  son  of  one  of  the  leading  cler 
gyman  returned  from  New  England  with  glowing  accounts  of  that 
'  plantation,'  a  furor  of  emigration  arose  in  the  town  and  county 
of  Londonderry,  and  portions  of  four  Presbyterian  congregations, 
with  their  four  pastors,  united  in  a  scheme  for  a  simultaneous  remo 
val  across  the  seas.  One  of  the  clergymen  waa  first  despatched  to 
Boston  to  make  the  needful  inquiries  and  arrangements.  He  was 
the  bearer  of  an  address  to  "  His  Excellency,  the  Eight  Honorable 
Colonel  Samuel  Smith,  Governor  of  New  England,"  which  assured 
his  Excellency  of  "  our  sincere  and  hearty  inclination  to  transport 
ourselves  to  that  very  excellent  and  renowned  plantation,  upon  our 
obtaining  from  his  Excellency  suitable  encouragement."  To  this 
address,  the  original  of  which  still  exists,  two  hundred  and  seven 
names  were  appended,  and  all  but  seven  in  the  hand-writing  of  the 
individuals  signing — a  fact  which  proves  the  superiority  of  the  emi 
grants  to  the  majority  of  their  countrymen,  both  in  position  and 
intelligence.  One  of  the  subscribers  was  a  baronet,  nine  were  cler 
gymen,  and  three  others  were  graduates  of  the  University  of  Ed 
inburgh. 

On  the  fourth  of  August,  1718,  the  advance  party  of  Scotch- 
Irish  emigrants  arrived  in  five  ships  at  Boston.  Some  of  them  re 
mained  in  that  city  and  founded  the  church  in  Federal  street,  of  which 
Dr.  Channing  was  afterwards  pastor.  Others  attempted  to  settle  in 
Worcester;  but  as  they  were  Irish  and  Presbyterians,  such  a 
storm  of  prejudice  against  them  arose  among  the  enlightened 
Congregationalists  of  that  place,  that  they  were  obliged  to  flee  be 
fore  it,  and  seek  refuge  in  the  less  populous  places  of  Massachusetts. 
Sixteen  families,  after  many  months  of  tribulation  and  wandering, 
selected  for  their  permanent  abode  a  tract  twelve  miles  square, 
called  Nutfield,  wind-  now  embraces  the  townships  of  London 


22  THE   SCOTCH-IRISH    OF   NEW    HAMPSHIRE. 

deny,  Deny  and  Winham,  in  Rockinghain  county,  New  Ilarap 
shire.  The  land  was  a  free  gift  from  the  king,  in  consideration  ol 
the  services  rendered  his  throne  by  the  people  of  Londonderry  in  the 
defense  of  their  city.  To  each  settler  was  assigned  a  farm  of  one 
hundred  and  twenty  acres,  a  house  lot,  and  an  out  lot  of  sixty 
acres.  The  lands  of  the  men  who  had  personally  served  during 
the  siege,  were  exempted  from  taxation,  and  were  known  down  to 
the  period  of  the  revolution  as  the  Exempt  Farms.  The  settle 
ment  of  Londonderry  attracted  new  emigrants,  and  it  soon  became 
one  of  the  most  prosperous  and  famous  in  the  colony. 

It  was  there  that  the  potato  was  first  cultivated,  and  there  that 
linen  was  first  made  in  New  England.  The  English  colonists  at  that 
day  appear  to  have  been  unacquainted  with  the  culture  of  the  po 
tato,  and  the  familiar  story  of  the  Andover  farmer  who  mistook  the 
balls  which  grow  on  the  potato  vine  for  the  genuine  fruit  of  the 
plant,  is  mentioned  by  a  highly  respectable  historian  of  New  Hamp 
shire  as  "  a  well-authenticated  fact." 

"With  regard  to  the  linen  manufacture,  it  may  be  mentioned  as  a 
proof  of  the  thrift  and  skill  of  the  Scotch- Irish  settlers,  that,  as  early 
as  the  year  1748,  the  linens  of  Londonderry  had  so  high  a  reputa 
tion  in  the  colonies,  that  it  was  found  necessary  to  take  measures  to 
prevent  the  linens  made  in  other  towns  from  being  fraudulently  sold 
for  those  of  Londonderry  manufacture.  A  town  meeting  was  held 
in  that  year  for  the  purpose  of  appointing  "  fit  and  proper  persona 
to  survey  and  inspect  linens  and  hollands  made  in  the  town  for  sale, 
eo  that  the  credit  of  our  manufactory  be  kept  up,  and  the  purchaser 
of  our  linens  may  not  be  imposed  upon  with  foreign  and  outlandish 
linens  in  the  name  of  ours."  Inspectors  and  sealers  were  accord 
ingly  appointed,  who  were  to  examine  and  stamp  "  all  the  hollands 
made  and  to  be  made  in  our  town,  whether  brown,  white,  speckled, 
or  checked,  that  are  to  be  exposed  for  sale ;"  for  which  service  they 
were  empowered  to  demand  from  the  owner  of  said  linen  "  sixpence, 
old  tenor,  for  each  piece."  And  this  occurred  within  thirty  years 
from  the  erection  of  the  first  log-hut  in  the  township  of  London 
derry.  However,  the  people  had  brought  their  spinning  and  weav 
ing  implements  with  them  from  Ireland,  and  their  industry  was  not 
once  interrupted  by  an  attack  of  Indians. 

These  Scotch -Irish  of  Londonderry  were  a  very  peculiar  people. 


CHARACTER    OF   THE    SCOTCH-IRISH.  23 

They  were  Scotch-Irish  in  character  and  in  name ;  of  Irish  viva 
city,  generosity,  and  daring;  Scotch  in  frugality,  industry,  and  reso 
lution  ;  a  race  in  whose  composition  nature  seems,  for  once,  to  have 
kindly  blended  the  qualities  that  render  men  interesting  with  those 
that  render  them  prosperous.  Their  habits  and  their  minds  were 
simple.  They  lived,  for  many  years  after  the  settlement  began  to 
thrive,  upon  the  fish  which  they  caught  at  the  falls  of  Amoskeag, 
upon  game,  and  upon  such  products  of  the  soil  as  beans,  potatoes, 
samp,  and  barley.  It  is  only  since  the  year  1800  that  tea  and  coffee, 
those  ridiculous  and  effeminating  drinks,  came  into  anything  like 
general  use  among  them.  It  was  not  till  some  time  after  the  Revo 
lution  that  a  chaise  was  seen  in  Londonderry,  and  even  then  it  ex 
cited  great  wonder,  and  was  deemed  an  unjustifiable  extravagance. 
Shoes,  we  are  told,  were  little  worn  in  the  summer,  except  on  Sun 
days  and  holidays ;  and  then  they  were  carried  in  the  hand  to  within 
a  short  distance  of  the  church,  where  they  were  put  on  !  There  was 
little  buying  and  selling  among  them,  but  much  borrowing  and 
lending.  u  If  a  neighbor  killed  a  calf,"  says  one  writer,  "  no  part 
of  it  was  sold ;  but  it  was  distributed  among  relatives  and  friends, 
the  poor  widow  always  having  a  piece ;  and  the  minister,  if  he  did 
not  get  the  shoulder,  got  a  portion  as  good."  The  women  were  ro 
bust,  worked  on  the  farms  in  the  busy  seasons,  reaping,  mowing, 
and  even  ploughing  on  occasion ;  and  the  hum  of  the  spinning- 
wheel  was  heard  in  every  house.  An  athletic,  active,  indomitable, 
prolific,  long-lived  race.  For  a  couple  to  have  a  dozen  children, 
and  for  all  the  twelve  to  reach  maturity,  to  marry,  to  have  large 
families,  and  die  at  a  good  old  age,  seems  to  have  been  no  uncom 
mon  case  among  the  original  Londonderrians. 

Love  of  fun  was  one  of  their  marked  characteristics.  One  of 
their  descendants,  the  Rev.  J.  H.  Morrison,  has  written — "  A  prom 
inent  trait  in  the  characte  r  of  the  Scotch-Irish  was  their  ready  wit 
No  subject  was  kept  sacred  from  it ;  the  thoughtless,  the  grave,  the 
old,  and  the  young,  alike  enjoyed  it.  Our  fathers  were  serious, 
thoughtful  men,  but  they  lost  no  occasion  which  might  promise  sport. 
Weddings,  huskings,  log-rollings  and  raisings — what  a  host  of  queer 
stories  i?  connected  with  them !  Our  ancestors  dearly  loved  fun. 
There  was  a  grotesque  humor,  and  yet  a  seriousness,  pathos  and 
strangeness  about  them,  which  in  its  way  has,  perhaps,  never  been 


24  THE    SCOTCH-IRISH    OF   NEW    HAMPSHIRE. 

equaled.  It  was  the  sternness  of  the  Scotch  Covenanter,  softened 
by  a  century's  residence  abroad,  amid  persecution  and  trial,  wedded 
to  the  comic  humor  and  pathos  of  the  Irish,  and  then  grown  wild 
in  the  woods  among  their  own  New  England  mountains." 

There  never  existed  a  people  at  once  so  jovial  and  so  religious. 
This  volume  could  bo  filled  with  a  collection  of  their  religious  re 
partees  and  pious  jokes.  It  was  Pat.  Larkin,  a  Scotch-Irishman, 
near  Londonderry,  who,  when  he  was  accused  of  being  a  Catholic, 
because  his  parents  were  Catholics,  replied:  "  If  a  man  happened 
to  be  born  in  a  stable,  would  that  make  him  a  horse  ?"  and  he  won 
his  bride  by  that  timely  spark. 

Quaint,  bold,  and  witty  were  the  old  Scotch-Irish  clergymen, 
the  men  of  the  siege,  as  mighty  with  carnal  weapons  as  with 
spiritual.  There  was  no  taint  of  the  sanctimonious  in  their  rough, 
honest,  and  healthy  natures.  During  the  old  French  war,  it  is  re 
lated,  a  British  officer,  in  a  peculiarly  "stunning"  uniform,  came 
one  Sunday  morning  to  the  Londonderry  Meeting  House.  Deeply 
conscious  was  this  individual  that  he  was  exceedingly  well  dressed, 
and  he  took  pains  to  display  his  finery  and  his  figure  by  standing 
in  an  attitude,  during  the  delivery  of  the  sermon,  which  had  the 
effect  of  withdrawing  the  minds  of  the  young  ladies  from  the  same. 
At  length,  the  minister,  who  had  both  fought  and  preached  in 
Londonderry  'at  home,'  and  feared  neither  man,  beast,  devil,  nor 
red-coat,  addressed  the  officer  thus  :  "  Ye  are  a  braw  lad ;  ye  ha'e 
a  braw  suit  of  claithes,  and  we  ha'e  a'  seen  them ;  ye  may  sit 
doun"  The  officer  subsided  instantly,  and  old  Dreadnought  went 
on  with  his  sermon  as  though  nothing  had  happened.  The  same 
clergyman  once  began  a  sermon  on  the  vain  self-confidence  of  St. 
Peter,  with  the  following  energetic  remarks :  "  Just  like  Peter,  aye 
mair  forrit  than  wise,  ganging  swaggering  about  wi'  a  sword  at  his 
side ;  an'  a  puir  hand  he  made  of  it  when  he  came  to  the  trial ;  for 
he  only  cut  off  a  chiel's  lug,  an'  he  ought  to  ha>  split  down  his 
head."  On  another  occasion,  he  is  said  to  have  opened  on  a  well- 
known  text  in  this  fashion  :  u  '  I  can  do  all  things ;'  ay,  can  ye 
Paul  ?  I'll  bet  ye  a  dollar  o'  that  (placing  a  dollar  on  the  desk). 
But  stop!  let's  see  what  else  Paul  says:  'I  can  do  all  things 
through  Christ,  which  strengthened  me ;'  ay,  sae  can  I,  Paul.  I 
draw  my  bet,"  and  he  returned  the  dollar  to  his  pocket.  Thej 


TRAITS    IN    THE   SCOTCH    CHARACTER.  25 

prayed  a  joke  sometimes,  those  Scotch-Irish  clergymen.  One  pastor, 
dining  with  a  new  settler,  who  had  no  table,  and  served  up  his 
dinner  in  a  basket,  implored  Heaven  to  bless  the  man  "  in  his  basket, 
and  in  his  store ;"  which  Heaven  did,  for  the  man  afterwards  grew 
rich.  "  What  is  the  difference,"  asked  a  youth,  "  between  the  Con- 
gregationalists  and  Presbyterians?"  "The  difference  is,"  replied 
the  pastor,  with  becoming  gravity,  "that  the  Congregationalist 
goes  home  between  the  services  and  eats  a  regular  dinner ;  but  the 
Presbyterian  puts  off  his  till  after  meeting." 

And  how  pious  they  were !  For  many  years  after  the  settle 
ment,  the  omission  of  the  daily  act  of  devotion  in  a  single  household 
would  have  excited  general  alarm.  It  is  related  as  a  fact,  that 
the  first  pastor  of  Londonderry,  being  informed  one  evening  that 
an  individual  was  becoming  neglectful  of  family  worship,  imme 
diately  repaired  to  his  dwelling.  The  family  had  retired;  he  called 
up  the  master  of  the  house,  inquired  if  the  report  was  true,  and 
asked  him  whether  he  had  omitted  family  prayer  that  evening.  The 
man  confessed  that  he  had;  and  the  pastor,  having  admonished  him 
of  his  fault,  refused  to  leave  the  house  until  the  delinquent  had  called 
up  his  wife,  and  performed  with  her  the  omitted  observance.  The 
first  settlers  of  some  of  the  towns  near  Londonderry  walked  every 
Sunday  eight,  ten,  twelve  miles  to  church,  taking  their  children 
with  them,  and  crossing  the  Merrimac  in  a  canoe  or  on  a  raft. 
The  first  public  enterprises  of  every  settlement  were  the  building  of 
a  church,  the  construction  of  a  block-house  for  defense  against  the 
Indians,  and  the  establishment  of  a  school.  In  the  early  times,  of 
course,  every  man  went  to  church  with  his  gun,  and  the  minister 
preached  peace  and  good-will  with  a  loaded  musket  peering  above 
the  sides  of  the  pulpit. 

The  Scotch-Irish  were  a  singularly  honest  people.  There  is  an 
entry  in  the  town-record  for  1734,  of  a  complaint  against  John 
Morrison,  that,  having  found  an  axe  on  the  road,  he  did  not  leave 
it  at  the  next  tavern, 4  as  the  laws  of  the  country  doth  require.'  John 
acknowledged  the  fact,  but  pleaded  in  extenuation,  that  the  axe 
was  of  so  small  value,  that  it  would  not  have  paid  the  cost  of  pro^ 
claiming.  The  session,  however,  censured  him  severely,  and  ex 
horted  him  to  repent  of  the  evil.  The  following  is  a  curious  extract 
from  the  records  of  a  Scotch-Irish  settlement  for  1756  :  "  Voted,  to 

2 


'26  THE    SCOTCH-IHISH    OF   NEW   HAMPSHIRE. 

give  Mr.  John  Houston  equal  to  forty  pounds  sterling,  in  old  tenor, 
as  the  law  shall  find  the  rate  in  dollars  or  sterling  money,  for  his 
yearly  stipend,  if  he  is  our  ordained  minister.  And  what  number 
of  Sabbath  days,  annually,  we  shall  think  ourselves  not  able  to  pay 
him,  he  shall  have  at  his  own  use  and  disposal,  deducted  out  of  the 
aforesaid  sum  in  proportion."  The  early  records  of  those  settle 
ments  abound  in  evidence,  that  the  people  had  an  habitual  and 
most  scrupulous  regard  for  the  rights  of  one  another. 

Kind,  generous,  and  compassionate,  too,  they  were.  Far  back  in 
1725,  when  the  little  colony  was  but  seven  years  old,  and  the  people 
were  struggling  with  their  first  difficulties,  we  find  the  session  or 
dering  two  collections  in  the  church,  one  to  assist  James  Clark  to 
ransom  his  son  from  the  Indians,  which  produced  five  pounds,  and 
another  for  the  relief  of  William  Moore,  whose  two  cows  had  been 
killed  by  the  falling  of  a  tree,  which  produced  three  pounds,  seven 
teen  shillings.  These  were  great  sums  in  those  early  days.  We 
read,  also,  in  the  History  of  Londonderry,  of  MacGregor,  its  first 
pastor,  becoming  the  champion  and  defender  of  a  personal  enemy 
who  was  accused  of  arson,  but  whom  the  magnanimous  pastoi 
believed  innocent  He  volunteered  his  defense  in  court.  The  man 
was  condemned  and  imprisoned,  but  MacGregor  continued  his  ex 
ertions  in  behalf  of  the  prisoner  until  his  innocence  was  established 
and  the  judgment  was  reversed. 

That  they  were  a  brave  people  need  scarcely  be  asserted.  Of 
that  very  MacGregor  the  story  is  told,  that  when  he  went  out  at 
the  head  of  a  committee,  to  remonstrate  with  a  belligerent  party, 
who  were  unlawfully  cutting  hay  from  the  out-lands  of  London 
derry,  and  one  of  the  hay-stealers,  in  the  heat  of  dispute,  shook  his 
fist  in  the  minister's  face,  saying,  "  Nothing  saves  you,  sir,  but  your 
black  coat,"  MacGregor  instantly  exclaimed,  "  Well,  it  shan't  save 
you,  sir,"  and  pulling  off  his  coat,  was  about  to  suit  the  action  to 
the  word,  when  the  enemy  beat  a  sudden  retreat,  and  troubled  the 
Londonderrians  no  more.  The  Scotch-Irish  of  New  Hampshire 
were  among  the  first  to  catch  the  spirit  of  the  Revolution.  They 
confronted  British  troops,  and  successfully  too,  'before  the  battle  of 
Lexington.  Four  English  soldiers  had  deserted  from  their  quarters 
in  Boston,  and  taken  refuge  in  Londonderry.  A  party  of  troops, 
dispatched  for  their  arrest,  discovered,  secured,  and  conveyed  them 


HORACE  GREELEl's    ILLUSION    TO    HIS    ANCESTRY.  27 

part  of  the  way  to  Boston.  A  band  of  young  men  assembled  and 
pursued  them  ;  and  so  overawed  the  British  officer  by  the  boldness 
of  their  demeanor,  that  he  gave  up  his  prisoners,  who  were  escorted 
back  to  Londonderry  in  triumph.  There  were  remarkably  fe\v 
tories  in  Londonderry.  The  town  was  united  almost  as  one  man 
on  the  side  of  Independence,  and  sent,  it  is  believed,  more  men  to 
the  war,  and  contributed  more  money  to  the  cause,  than  any  other 
town  of  equal  resources  in  New  England.  Here  are  a  few  of  the 
town-meeting  "  votes"  of  the  first  months  of  the  war :  "  Voted,  to 
give  our  men  that  have  gane  to  the  Massachusetts  government 
seven  dollars  a  month,  until  it  be  known  what  Congress  will  do  in 
that  affair,  and  that  the  officers  shall  have  as  much  pay  as  those  in 
the  liay  government." — "  Voted,  that  a  committee  of  nine  men  be 
chosen  to  inquire  into  the  conduct  of  those  men  that  are  thought 
not  to  be  friends  of  their  country." — "  Voted,  that  the  aforesaid  com 
mittee  have  no  pay." — "  Voted,  that  twenty  more  men  be  raised  im 
mediately,  to  be  ready  upon  the  first  emergency,  as  minute  men." — 
"  Voted,  that  twenty  more  men  be  enlisted  in  Capt.  Aiken's  com 
pany,  as  minute  men." — "  Voted,  that  the  remainder  of  the  stock  of 
powder  shall  be  divided  out  to  every  one  that  hath  not  already  re 
ceived  of  the  same,  as  far  as  it  will  go ;  provided  he  produces  a  gun 
of  his  own,  in  good  order,  and  is  willing  to  go  against  the  enemy, 
and  promises  not  to  waste  any  of  the  powder,  only  in  self-defense ; 
and  provided,  also,  that  he  show  twenty  good  bullets  to  suit  his 
gun,  and  six  good  flints."  In  1777  the  town  gave  a  bounty  of 
thirty  pounds  for  every  man  who  enlisted  for  three  years.  All  the 
records  and  traditions  of  the  revolutionary  period  breathe  unity  and 
determination.  Stark,  the  hero  of  Benningtoii,  was  a  London- 
derrian. 

Such  were  the  Scotch-Irish  of  New  Hampshire ;  of  such  material 
were  the  maternal  ancestors  of  Horace  Greeley  composed ;  and 
from  his  maternal  ancestors  he  derived  much  that  distinguishes  him 
from  men  in  general. 

In  the  "New  Yorker"  for  August  28,  1841,  he  alluded  to  hi» 
Scotch-Irish  origin  in  a  characteristic  way.  Noticing  Charlotte 
Elizabeth's  "  Siege  of  Berry,"  he  wrote  : 

"  We  do  not  like  this  work,  and  we  choose  to  say  so  frankly. 
What  is  the  use  of  reviving  and  aggravating  these  old  stories  (alas  I 


28  THE    SCOTCH-IRISH   OF   NEW    HAMPSHIRE. 

how  true  !)  of  scenes  in  which  Christians  of  diverse  creeds  ha\e  tor- 
tured  and  butchered  each  other  for  the  glory  of  God  ?  We  had  an 
cestors  in  that  same  Siege  of  Derry,— on  the  Protestant  side,  of 
course, — and  our  sympathies  are  all  on  that  side ;  but  we  cannot 
forget  that  intolerance  and  persecution — especially  in  Ireland — are 
by  no  means  exclusively  Catholic  errors  and  crimes.  Who  perse 
cutes  in  Ireland  now  *  On  what  principle  of  Christian  toleration 
are  the  poor  man's  pig  and  potatoes  wrested  from  him  to  pay  tithes 
to  a  church  he  abhors?  We  do  hope  the  time  is  soon  coming  when 
man  will  no  more  persecute  his  brother  for  a  difference  of  faith ; 
but  that  time  will  never  be  hastened  by  the  publication  of  such 
books  as  the  Siege  of  Derry." 


CHAPTER  II. 

ANCESTOR  S. — P  AKENTAGE. — BIETH. 

Origin  of  the  Family — Old  Captain  Ezekiel  Greeley — Zoccheus  Greeley — Zaccheru 
the  Second — Roughness  and  Tenacity  of  the  Grt-eley  nice — Maternal  Ancestors  of 
Horace  Grt-eley— John  Woodburn — Character  of  Horace  Greeley's  Great-grand 
mother — His  Grandmother — Romantic  Incident— Horace  Greeley  is  born  uas  black 
as  a  chimney"— Comes  to  his  color— Succeeds  to  the  name  of  Horace. 

THE  name  of  Greeley  is  an  old  and  not  uncommon  one  in  New 
England.  It  is  spelt  Greeley,  Greely,  Greale,  and  Greele,  but  all 
who  bear  the  name  in  this  country  trace  their  origin  to  the  same 
source. 

The  tradition  is,  that  very  early  in  the  history  of  New  England — 
probably  as  early  as  1650 — three  brothers,  named  Greeley,  emigrat 
ed  from  the  neighborhood  of  Nottingham,  England.  One  of  them 
is  supposed  to  have  settled  finally  in  Maine,  another  in  Rhode 
Island,  the  third  in  Massachusetts.  All  the  Greeleys  in  New  Eng 
land  have  descended  from  these  three  brothers,  and  the  branch  of 
the  family  with  which  we  have  to  do,  from  him  who  settled  in  Mas 
sachusetts.  Respecting  the  condition  and  social  rank  of  these  broth 
ers,  their  occupation  and  character,  tradition  is  silent.  But  from 


CAPTAIN  EZEKIEL  GREELEY.  29 

the  fact  that  no  coat-of-arms  has  been  preserved  or  ever  hea.,:!  of 
by  any  member  of  the  family,  and  from  the  occupation  of  tht>  ma 
jority  of  their  descendants,  it  is  plausibly  conjectured  that  they 
were  farmers  of  moderate  means  and  of  the  middle  class. 

Tradition  further  hints  that  the  name  of  the  brother  who  f  mnd 
a  home  in  Massachusetts  was  Benjamin,  that  he  was  a  farmer,  that 
he  lived  in  Haverhill,  a  township  bordering  on  the  south-eastern  cor 
ner  of  New  Hampshire,  that  he  prospered  there,  and  died  respected 
by  all  who  knew  him  at  a  good  old  age.  So  far,  tradition,  We 
now  draw  from  the  memory  of  individuals  still  living. 

The  son  of  Benjamin  Greeley  was  Ezekiel,  "  old  Captain  Ezekiel," 
who  lived  and  greatly  flourished  at  Hudson,  New  Hampshire,  (then 
known  as  Nottingham  West,)  and  is  well  remembered  there,  and  in 
all  the  region  round  about.  The  captain  was  not  a  military  man.  He 
was  half  lawyer,  half  farmer.  He  was  a  sharp,  cunning,  scheming, 
cool-headed,  cold-hearted  man,  one  who  lived  by  his  wits,  who  always 
got  his  cases,  always  succeeded  in  his  plans,  always  prospered  in  his 
speculations,  and  grew  rich  \vithout  ever  doing  a  day's  work  in  his  life. 
He  is  remembered  by  his  grandsons,  who  saw  him  in  their  childhood, 
as  a  black-eyed,  black-haired,  heavy-browed,  stern-looking  man,  of 
complexion  almost  as  dark  as  that  of  an  Indian,  and  not  unlike  an  In 
dian  in  temper.  "  A  cross  old  dog,"  "  a  hard  old  knot,"  "  as  cunning 
us  Lucifer,"  are  among  the  complimentary  expressions  bestowed  upon 
him  by  his  descendants.  "  All  he  had,"  says  one,  "  was  at  the  service 
of  the  rich,  but  he  was  hard  upon  the  poor."  "  His  religion  was  nom 
inally  Baptist,"  says  another,  "  but  really  to  get  money."  "  He  got 
all  he  could,  and  saved  all  he  got,"  chimes  in  a  third.  He  died,  at  the 
age  of  sixty-five,  with  "  all  his  teeth  sound,  and  worth  three  hundred 
acres  of  good  land.  He  is  spoken  of  with  that  sincere  respect  which, 
in  New  England,  seems  never  to  be  denied  to  a  very  smart  man, 
who  succeeds  by  strictly  legal  means  in  acquiring  property,  however 
wanting  in  principle,  however  destitute  of  feeling,  that  man  may 
be.  Happily,  the  wife  of  old  Captain  Ezekiel  was  a  gentler  and 
better  being  than  her  husband. 

And,  therefore,  Zaccheus,  the  son  of  old  Captain  Ezekiel,  was  a 
gentler  and  better  man  than  his  father.  Zaccheus  inherited  part  of 
his  father's  land,  and  was  a  farmer  all  the  days  of  his  life.  He  was 
Dot,  it  appears,  "  too  fond  of  work,"  though  far  more  industrious 


30  ANCESTORS. PARENTAGE. BIBTH. 

than  his  father ;  a  man  who  took  life  easily,  of  strict  integrity, 
kind-hearted,  gentle-mannered,  not  ill  to  do  in  the  world,  but  not 
what  is  called  in  New  England  "  'fore-handed."  He  is  remembered 
in  the  neighborhood  where  he  lived  chiefly  for  his  extraordinary 
knowledge  of  the  Bible.  He  could  quote  texts  more  readily,  cor 
rectly,  and  profusely  than  any  of  his  neighbors,  laymen  or  clergy. 
men.  He  had  the  reputation  of  knowing  the  whole  Bible  by  heart. 
He  was  a  Baptist ;  and  all  who  knew  him  unite  in  declaring  that  a 
worthier  man  never  lived  than  Zaccheus  Greeley.  He  had  a  large 
family,  and  lived  to  the  age  of  ninety-five. 

His  second  son  was  named  Zaccheus  also,  and  he  is  the  father  of 
Horace  Greeley.  He  is  still  living,  and  cultivates  an  ample  domain 
in  Erie  County,  Pennsylvania,  acquired  in  part  by  his  own  arduous 
labors,  in  part  by  the  labors  of  his  second  son,  and  in  part  by  the 
liberality  of  his  eldest  son  Horace.  At  this  time,  in  the  seventy- 
third  year  of  his  age,  his  form  is  as  straight,  his  step  as  decided, 
his  constitution  nearly  as  firm,  and  his  look  nearly  as  young,  as 
though  he  were  in  the  prime  of  life. 

All  the  Greeleys  that  I  have  seen  or  heard  described,  are  persons 
of  marked  and  peculiar  characters.  Many  of  them  are  "  charac 
ters"  The  word  which  perhaps  best  describes  the  quality  fo 
which  they  are  distinguished  is  tenacity.  They  are,  as  a  race,  tena 
cious  of  life,  tenacious  of  opinions  and  preferences,  of  tenacious 
memory,  and  tenacious  of  their  purposes.  One  member  of  the 
family  died  at  the  age  of  one  hundred  and  twenty  years;  and  a 
large  proportion  of  the  early  generations  lived  more  than  three 
score  years  and  ten.  Few  of  the  name  have  been  rich,  but  most 
have  been  persons  of  substance  and  respectability,  acquiring  their 
property,  generally,  by  the  cultivation  of  the  soil,  and  a  soil,  too, 
which  does  not  yield  its  favors  to  the  sluggard.  It  is  the  boast 
of  those  members  of  the  family  who  have  attended  to  its  geneal 
ogy,  that  no  Greeley  was  ever  a  prisoner,  a  pauper,  or,  worse  than 
either,  a  tory  I  Two  of  Horace  Greeley's  great  uncles  perished  at 
Bennington,  and  he  was  fully  justified  in  his  assertion,  made  in  the 
heat  of  the  Roman  controversy  a  few  years  ago,  that  he  was  "  born 
of  republican  parentage,  of  an  ancestry  which  participated  vividly 
in  the  hopes  and  fears,  the  convictions  and  efforts  of  the  American 
Involution."  And  he  added  :  "  We  cannot  disavow  nor  prove  rec- 


TOUGHNESS    OF    THE    GREELEY   RACE.  31 

reant  to  the  principles  on  which  that  Revolution  was  justified — on 
which  only  it  can  be  justified.  If  adherence  to  these  principles 
makes  us  'the  unmitigated  enemy  of  Pius  IX.,'  we  regret  the  en 
mity,  but  cannot  abjure  our  principles." 

The  maiden  name  of  Horace  Greeley's  mother  was  Woodburn, 
Mary  Woodburn,  of  Londonderry. 

The  founder  of  the  Woodburn  family  in  this  country  was  John 
Woodburn,  who  emigrated  from  Londonderry  in  Ireland,  to  London 
derry  in  New  Hampshire,  about  the  year  1725,  seven  years  after  the 
settlement  of  the  original  sixteen  families.  He  came  over  with  his 
brother  David,  who  was  drowned  a  few  years  after,  leaving  a  fam 
ily.  Neither  of  the  brothers  actually  served  in  the  siege  of  Lon 
donderry  ;  they  were  too  young  for  that ;  but  they  were  both  men 
of  the  true  Londonderry  stamp,  men  with  a  good  stroke  in  their 
arms,  a  rnerry  twinkle  in  their  eyes,  indomitable  workers,  and  not 
more  brave  in  fight  than  indefatigable  in  frolic ;  fair-haired  men 
like  all  their  brethren,  and  gall-less. 

John  Woodburn  obtained  the  usual  grant  of  one  hundred  and 
twenty  acres  of  land,  besides  the  "  out-lot  and  home-lot "  before 
alluded  to,  and  he  took  root  in  Londonderry  and  nourished.  Ho 
was  twice  married,  and  was  the  father  of  two  sons  and  nine  daugh 
ters,  all  of  whom  (as  children  did  in  those  healthy  times)  lived  to 
maturity,  and  all  but  one  married. '  John  Woodburn's  second  wife, 
from  whom  Horace  Greeley  is  descended,  was  a  remarkable  wo 
man.  Mr.  Greeley  has  borne  this  testimony  to  her  worth  and  in 
fluence,  in  a  letter  to  a  friend  which  some  years  ago  escaped  into 
print :  "  I  think  I  am  indebted  for  my  first  impulse  toward  intel 
lectual  acquirement  and  exertion  to  my  mother's  grandmother,  who 
came  out  from  Ireland  among  the  first  settlers  in  Londonderry. 
She  must  have  been  well  versed  in  Irish  and  Scotch  traditions, 
pretty  well  informed  and  strong  minded ;  and  my  mother  being  left 
motherless  when  quite  young,  her  grandmother  exerted  great  influ 
ence  over  her  mental  development.  I  vras'a  third  child,  the  two 
preceding  having  died  young,  and  I  presume  my  mother  was  the 
more  attached  to  me  on  that  ground,  and  the  extreme  feebleness  of 
my  constitution.  My  mind  was  early  filled  by  her  with  the  tradi 
tions,  ballads,  and  snatches  of  history  she  had  learned  from  her 
grandmother,  which,  though  conveying  very  distorted  and  incorrect 


32  ANCESTORS. PARENTAGE. BIRTH. 

ideas  of  history,  yet  served  to  awaken  in  me  a  thirst  for  knowledge 
and  a  lively  interest  in  learning  and  history."  John  Woodburn  died 
in  1780.  Mrs.  Woodburn,  the  subject  of  the  passage  just  quoted, 
survived  her  husband  many  years,  lived  to  see  her  children's  grand 
children,  and  to  acquire  throughout  the  neighborhood  the  familiar 
title  of  "  Granny  Woodburn." 

David  Woodburn,  the  grandfather  of  Horace  Greeley,  was  the 
eldest  son  of  John  Woodburn,  and  the  inheritor  of  his  estate.  He 
married  Margaret  Clark,  a  granddaughter  of  that  Mrs.  Wilson,  the 
touching  story  of  whose  deliverance  from  pirates  was  long  a  favor 
ite  tale  at  the  firesides  of  the  early  settlers  of  New  Hampshire. 
In  1720,  a  ship  containing  a  company  of  Irish  emigrants  bound  to 
New  England  was  captured  by  pirates,  and  while  the  ship  was  in 
their  possession,  and  the  fate  of  the  passengers  still  undecided,  Mrs. 
Wilson,  one  of  the  company,  gave  birth  to  her  first  child.  The  cir 
cumstance  so  moved  the  pirate  captain,  who  was  himself  a  husband 
and  a  father,  that  he  permitted  the  emigrants  to  pursue  their  voyage 
unharmed.  He  bestowed  upon  Mrs.  Wilson  some  valuable  pres 
ents,  among  others  a  silk  dress,  pieces  of  which  are  still  preserved 
among  her  descendants ;  and  he  obtained  from  her  a  promise  that 
she  would  call  the  infant  by  the  name  of  his  wife.  The  ship 
reached  its  destination  in  safety,  and  the  day  of  its  deliverance  from 
the  hands  of  the  pirates  was  annually  observed  as  a  day  of  thanks 
giving  by  the  passengers  for  many  years.  Mrs.  Wilson,  after  the 
death  of  her  first  husband,  became  the  wife  of  James  Clark,  whose 
son  John  was  the  father  of  Mrs.  David  Woodburn,  whose  daugh 
ter  Mary  was  the  mother  of  Horace  Greeley. 

The  descendants  of  John  Woodburn  are  exceedingly  numerous, 
and  contribute  largely,  says  Mr.  Parker,  the  historian  of  London 
derry,  to  the  hundred  thousand  who  are  supposed  to  have  de 
scended  from  the  early  settlers  of  the  town.  The  grandson  of  John 
Woodburn,  a  very  genial  and  jovial  gentleman,  still  owns  and  tills 
the  land  originally  granted  to  the  family.  At  the  old  homestead, 
about  the  year  T807,  Zaccheus  Greeley  and  Mary  Woodburn  were 
married. 

Zaccheus  Greeley  inherited  nothing  from  his  father,  and  Mary 
Woodburn  received  no  more  than  the  usual  household  portion  from 
hers.  Zaccheus,  as  the  sons  of  New  England  farmers  usually  do, 


HORACE    GREELEY    IS    BORN    BLACK.  S3 

or  did  in  thuse  days,  went  out  to  work  as  soon  as  he  waa  old 
enough  to  do  a  day's  work.  Ho  saved  his  earnings,  and  in  his 
twenty -fifth  year  was  the  owner  of  a  farm  in  the  town  of  Amherst, 
Hillsborough  county,  New  Hampshire. 

There,  on  the  third  of  February,  1811,  Horace  Greeley  was  born. 
He  is  the  third  of  seven  children,  of  whom  the  two  elder  died  be 
fore  he  was  born,  and  the  four  younger  are  still  living. 

The  mode  of  his  entrance  upon  the  stage  of  the  world  was,  to 
say  the  least  of  it,  unusual.  The  effort  was  almost  too  much  for 
him,  and,  to  use  the  language  of  one  who  was  present,  u  he  came 
into  the  world  as  black  as  a  chimney."  There  were  no  signs  of 
life.  He  uttered  no  cry ;  he  made  no  motion  ;  he  did  not  breathe. 
But  the  little  discolored  stranger  had  articles  to  write,  and  was  not 
permitted  to  escape  his  destiny.  In  this  alarming  crisis  of  his  exist 
ence,  a  kind-hearted  and  experienced  aunt  came  to  his  rescue,  and 
by  arts,  which  to  kind-hearted  and  experienced  aunts  are  well 
known,  but  of  which  the  present  chronicler  remains  in  ignorance, 
the  boy  was  brought  to  life.  He  soon  began  to  breathe ;  then  he 
began  to  blush ;  and  by  the  time  he  had  attained  the  age  of  twenty 
minutes,  lay  on  his  mother's  arm,  a  red  and  smiling  infant. 

In  due  time,  the  boy  received  the  name  of  Horace.  There  had 
been  another  little  Horace  Greeley  before  him,  but  he  had  died  in 
infancy,  and  his  parents  wished  to  preserve  in  their  second  son  a 
living  memento  of  their  first.  The  name  was  not  introduced  into 
the  family  from  any  partiality  on  the  part  of  his  parents  for  the 
Roman  poet,  but  because  his  father  had  a  relative  so  named,  and 
because  the  mother  had  read  the  name  in  a  book  and  liked  the 
sound  of  it.  The  sound  of  it,  however,  did  not  often  regale  the 
maternal  ear ;  for,  in  New  England,  where  the  name  of  the  corrtly 
satirist  is  frequently  given,  its  household  diminutive  is  "  Hod;"  and 
by  that  elegant  monosyllable  ,he  boy  was  commonly  called  among 
his  juvenile  friends. 

2* 


CHAPTER    III. 

EARLY      CHILDHOOD. 

The  Village  of  A raherst— Character  of  the  adjacent  country— The  Greeley  farm 
The  Tribune  in  the  room  in  which  its  Editor  was  born— Horace  learns  to  read— 
Book  up-side  down— G.>ea  to  school  in  Londonderry— A  district  school  fortj 
years  ago— Horace  as  a  young  orator— Has  a  mania  for  spelling  hard  words— Geta 
great  glory  at  the  spelling  school — Recollections  of  his  surviving  schoolfellows — 
His  future  eminence  foretold -Delicacy  of  ear— Early  choice  of  a  trade— His 
courage  and  timidity— Goes  to  school  in  Bedford — A  favorite  among  his  school 
fellows — His  early  fondness  for  the  village  newspaper — Lies  in  ambush  for  the 
post-rider  who  brought  it— Scours  the  country  for  books— Project  of  sending  him 
to  an  academy— The  old  sea-captain—Horace  as  a  farmer's  boy— Let  us  do  our 
stint  first— His  way  of  fishing. 

AMHERST  is  the  county  town  of  Hillsborough,  one  of  the  three 
counties  of  New  Hampshire  which  are  bounded  on  the  South  by 
the  State  of  Massachusetts.  It  is  forty-two  miles  north-west  of 
Boston. 

The  village  of  Araherst  is  a  pleasant  place.  Seen  from  the  summit 
of  a  distant  hill,  it  is  a  white  dot  in  the  middle  of  a  level  plain,  en 
circled  by  cultivated  and  gently-sloping  hills.  On  a  nearer  ap 
proach  the  traveler  perceives  that  it  is  a  cluster  of  white  houses, 
looking  as  if  they  had  alighted  among  the  trees  and  might  take  to 
wing  again.  On  entering  it  he  finds  himself  in  a  very  pretty  vil 
lage,  built  round  an  ample  green  and  shaded  by  lofty  trees.  It  con 
tains  three  churches,  a  printing-office,  a  court-house,  a  jail,  a 
taveT^  naif  a  dozen  stores,  an  exceedingly  minute  watchmaker's 
.snop,  and  a  hundred  private  houses.  There  is  not  a  human  being 
to  be  seen,  nor  a  sound  to  be  heard,  except  the  twittering  of  birds 
overhead,  and  the  distant  whistle  of  a  locomotive,  which  in  those 
remote  regions  seems  to  make  the  silence  audible.  The  titter 
silence  and  the  deserted  aspect  of  the  older  villages  in  New  Eng 
land  are  remarkable.  In  the  morning  and  evening  there  is 
some  appearance  of  life  in  Amherst ;  but  ia  the  hours  of  the  day 
when  the  men  are  at  work,  the  women  busy  with  their  household 
affairs,  and  the  children  at  school,  the  visitor  may  sit  at  the  win- 


[THE  SCHOOL  HOUSE.] 


AMHERST.  35 

du  if  the  village  tavern  for  an  hour  at  a  time  and  not  see  a  living 
creH*  ire.  Occasionally  a  peddler,  with  sleigh-bells  round  his  horse, 
goes  jingling  by.  Occasionally  a  farmer's  wagon  drives  up  to  one  of 
the  stores.  Occasionally  a  stage,  rocking  in  its  leather  suspenders, 
stops  at  the  post-office  for  a  moment,  and  then  rocks  away  again. 
Occasionally  a  doctor  passes  in  a  very  antiquated  gig.  Occasion 
ally  a  cock  crows,  as  though  he  were  tired  of  the  dead  silence.  A 
New  York  village,  a  quarter  the  size  and  wealth  of  Amherst,  makes 
twice  its  noise  and  bustle;  Forty  years  ago,  however,  when  Horace 
Greeley  used  to  come  to  the  stores  there,  it  was  a  place  of  some 
what  more  importance  and  more  business  than  it  is  now,  for  Man 
chester  and  Nashua  have  absorbed  many  of  the  little  streams  of 
traffic  which  used  to  flow  towards  the  county  town.  It  is  a  curious 
evidence  of  the  stationary  character  of  the  place,  that  the  village 
paper,  which  had  fifteen  hundred  subscribers  when  Horace  Greeley 
was  three  years  old,  and  learned  to  read  from  it,  has  fifteen  hundred 
subscribers,  and  no  more,  at  this  moment.  It  bears  the  same  name 
it  did  then,  is  published  by  the  same  person,  and  adheres  to  the 
same  party. 

The  township  of  Amherst  contains  about  eight  square  miles  of  some 
what  better  land  than  the  land  of  New  England  generally  is.  Wheat 
cannot  be  grown  on  it  to  advantage,  but  it  yields  fair  returns  of 
rye,  oats,  potatoes,  Indian  corn,  and  young  men  :  the  last-named  of 
which  commodities  forms  the  chief  article  of  export.  The  farmers 
have  to  contend  against  hilto,  rocks,  stones  innumerable,  eand, 
marsh,  and  long  winters;  but  A  ftundred  years  of  tillage  have  sub 
dued  these  obstacles  in  part,  fjyl  the  people  generally  enjoy  a  safe 
and  moderate  prosperity.  Yf  t  severe  is  their  toil.  To  see  them 
ploughing  alorg  the  sides  of  those  steep,  rocky  hills,  the  plough 
creaking,  the  oxen  groanir/,  the  little  boy-driver  leaping  from  sod 
to  sod,  as  an  Alpine  boy  fa  supposed  to  leap  from  crag  to  crag,  the 
ploughman  wrenching  tba  plough  round  the  rooks,  boy  and  man 
every  minute  or  two  uniting  in  a  prolonged  and  agonizing  yell  for 
the  panting  beasts  to  stop,  when  the  plough  is  of  a«;ht  by  a  hidden 
rock  too  large  for  it  to  overturn,  and  the  Buiemn  slowness  with 
which  the  procession  winds,  and  creaks,  and  groans  along,  gives  tc 
the  languid  citizen,  who  chances  to  pass  by,  a  new  idea  of  hard 
work,  and  a  new  sense  of  the  happiness  of  his  lot. 


bt»  EARLY    CHILDHOOD. 

The  farm  owned  by  Zaccheus  Greeley  when  his  son  Horace  was 
born,  was  four  or  five  miles  from  the  village  of  Arnherst.  It  con 
sisted  of  fifty  acres  of  land — heavy  land  to  till— rocky,  moist, 
and  uneven,  worth  then  eight  hundred  dollars,  now  two  thousand. 
The  house,  a  small,  unpainted,  hut  substantial  and  well-built  farm- 
liouse,  stood,  and  still  stands,  upon  a  ledge,  or  platform,  half  way 
up  a  high,  steep,  and  rocky  hill,  commanding  an  extensive  and  al 
most  panoramic  view  of  the  surrounding  country.  In  whatever 
direction  the  boy  may  have  looked,  he  saw  rock.  Kock  is  the 
feature  of  the  landscape.  There  is  rock  in  the  old  orchard  behind 
the  house ;  rocks  peep  out  from  the  grass  in  the  pastures;  there  is 
rock  along  the  road  ;  rock  on  the  sides  of  the  hills ;  rock  on  their 
summits;  rock  in  the  valleys;  rock  in  the  woods; — rock,  rock, 
everywhere  rock.  And  yet  the  country  has  not  a  barren  look.  I 
should  call  it  a  serious  looking  country ;  one  that  would  be  congenial 
to  grim  covenanters  and  exiled  round-heads.  The  prevailing  colora 
are  dark,  even  in  the  brightest  month  of  the  year.  The  pine  woods, 
the  rock,  the  shade  of  the  hill,  the  color  of  the  soil,  are  all  dark 
aud  serious.  It  is  a  still,  unfrequented  region.  One  may  ride  along 
the  road  upon  which  the  house  stands,  for  many  a  mile,  without 
passing  a  single  vehicle.  The  turtles  hobble  across  the  road  fear 
less  of  the  crushing  wheel.  If  any  one  wished  to  know  the  full 
meaning  of  the  word  country,  as  distinguished  from  the  word  town, 
he  need  do  no  more  than  ascend  the  hill  on  which  Horace  Greeley 
saw  the  light,  and  look  around. 

Yet,  the  voice  of  the  city  is  heard  even  there ;  the  opinions  of 
the  city  influence  there;  for, observe,  in  the  very  room  in  which 
our  hero  was  born,  on  a  table  which  stands  where,  in  other  days,  a 
bed  stood,  we  recognize,  among  the  heap  of  newspapers,  the  wel1- 
known  heading  of  the  WEEKLY  TEIBUNE. 

Such  was  the  character  of  the  region  in  which  Horace  Greeley 
passed  the  greater  part  of  the  first  seven  years  of  his  life.  His 
father's  neighbors  were  all  hard-working  farmers — men  who  work 
ed  their  own  farms — who  were  nearly  equal  in  wealth,  and  to  whom 
the  idea  of  social  inequality,  founded  upon  an  inequality  in  possess 
ions,  did  not  exist,  even  as  an  idea.  "Wealth  and  want  were  alike 
unknown..  It  was  a  community  of  plain  people,  who  had  derived 
all  their  book-knowledge  from  the  district  school,  and  depended 


HORACE  LEARNS  TO  READ.  37 

upon  the  village  newspaper  for  their  knowledge  of  the  world  with 
out.  There  were  no  heretics  among  them.  All  the  people  either 
cordially  embraced  or  nndoubtingly  assented  to  the  faith  called 
Orthodox,  and  all  of  them  attended,  more  or  less  regularly,  the 
churches  in  which  that  faith  was  expounded. 

The  first  great  peril  of  his  existence  escaped,  the  boy  grew  apace, 
and  passed  through  the  minor  and  ordinary  dangers  of  infancy  with 
out  having  his  equanimity  seriously  disturbed.  He  was  a  "  quiet 
and  peaceable  child,"  reports  his  father,  and,  though  far  from  robust, 
suffered  little  from  actual  sickness. 

To  say  that  Horace  Greeley,  from  the  earliest  months  of  his  exist 
ence,  manifested  signs  of  extraordinary  intelligence,  is  only  to  repeat 
what  every  biographer  asserts  of  his  hero,  and  every  mother  of  her 
child.  Yet,  common-place  as  it  is,  the  truth  must  be  told.  Horace 
Greeley  did,  as  a  very  young  child,  manifest  signs  of  extraordinary 
intelligence.  He  took  to  learning  with  the  promptitude  and  in 
stinctive,  irrepressible  love,  with  which  a  duck  is  said  to  take  to  the 
water.  His  first  instructor  was  his  mother ;  and  never  was  there 
a  mother  better  calculated  to  awraken  the  mind  of  a  child,  and 
keep  it  awake,  than  Mrs.  Greeley. 

Tall,  muscular,  well-formed,  with  the  strength  of  a  man  without 
his"  coarseness,  active  in  her  habits,  not  only  capable  of  hard  work, 
but  delighting  in  it,  with  a  perpetual  overflow  of  animal  spirits,  an 
exhaustless  store  of  songs,  ballads  and  stories,  and  a  boundless,  ex 
uberant  good  will  toward  all  living  things,  Mrs.  Greeley  was  the 
life  of  the  house,  the  favorite  of  the  neighborhood,  the  natural 
friend  and  ally  of  children ;  whatever  she  did  she  did  "  with  a  will.'* 
She  was  a  great  reader,  and  remembered  all  she  read.  "She 
worked,"  says  one  of  my  informants,  "  in  doors  and  out  of  doors, 
could  out-rake  any  man  in  the  town,  and  could  load  the  hay-wag 
ons  as  fast  and  as  well  as  her  husband.  She  hoed  in  the  garden ; 
she  labored  in  the  field ;  and,  while  doing  more  than  the  work  of  an 
ordinary  man  and  an  ordinary  woman  combined,  would  laugh  and 
sing  all  day  long,  and  tell  stories  all  the  evening." 

To  these  stories  the  boy  listened  greedily,  as  he  sat  on  the  flooi 
at  her  feet,  while  she  spun  and  talked  with  equal  energy.  They 
u  served,"  says  Mr.  Greeley,  in  a  passage  already  quoted,  "  to  awaken 
ta  me  a  thirst  for  knowledge,  and  a  lively  interest  in  learning  and 


38  EARLY    CHILDHOOD. 

history."  Think  of  it,  you  word-mongering,  gerund-grinding 
teachers  who  delight  in  signs  and  symbols,  and  figures  and  "  facts," 
and  feed  little  children's  souls  on  the  dry,  innutrtious  husks  of 
knowledge  ;  and  think  of  it,  you  play -abhorring,  fiction-forbidding 
parents !  Awaken  the  interest  in  learning,  and  the  thirst  for  knowl 
edge,  and  there  is  no  predicting  what  may  or  what  may  not  result 
from  it.  Scarcely  a 'man,  distinguished  for  the  supremacy  or  the 
beauty  of  his  immortal  part,  has  written  the  history  of  his  childhood 
without  recording  the  fact  that  the  celestial  fire  was  first  kindled 
in  his  soul  by  means  similar  to  those  which  awakened  an  "  interest 
in  learning"  and  a  "  thirst  for  knowledge"  in  the  mind  of  Horace 
Greeley. 

Horace  learned  to  read  before  he  had  learned  to  talk ;  that  is, 
before  he  could  pronounce  the  longer  words.  No  one  regularly 
taught  him.  When  he  was  little  more  than  two  years  old,  he  began 
to  pore  over  the  Bible,  opened  for  his  entertainment  on  the  floor, 
and  examine  with  curiosity  the  newspaper  given  him  to  play  with. 
He  cannot  remember  a  time  when  he  could  not  read,  nor  can  any 
one  give  an  account  of  the  process  by  which  he  learned,  except  that 
he  asked  questions  incessantly,  first  about  the  pictures  in  the  news 
paper,  then  about  the  capital  letters,  then  about  the  smaller  ones, 
and  finally  about  the  words  and  sentences.  At  three  years  of  age 
he  could  read  easily  and  correctly  any  of  the  books  prepared  for 
children;  and  at  four,  any  book  whatever.  But  he  was  not  satisfied 
with  overcoming  the  ordinary  difficulties  of  reading.  Allowing 
that  nature  gives  to  every  child  a  certain  amount  of  mental  force  to 
be  used  in  acquiring  the  art  of  reading,  Horace  had  an  over 
plus  of  that  force,  which  he  employed  in  learning  to  read  with  his 
book  in  positions  which  increased  the  difficulty  of  the  feat,  All  the 
friends  and  neighbors  of  his  early  childhood,  in  reporting  him  a 
prodigy  unexampled,  adduce  as  the  unanswerable  and  clinching 
proof  of  the  fact,  that,  at  the  age  of  four  years,  he  could  read 
any  book  in  whatever  position  it  might  be  placed, — rigi  t-side  up, 
up-side  down,  or  sidewise. 

His  third  winter  Horace  spent  at  the  house  of  his  grandfather. 
Dnvid  Woodburn,  in  Londonderry,  attended  the  district  school 
there,  and  distinguished  himself  greatly.  He  had  no  right  to  at 
tend  the  Londonderry  school,  and  the  people  of  the  rural  districts 


A    DISTRICT    SCHOOL   FORTY   YEARS    AGO.  39 

<tre  apt  to  be  strenuous  upon  the  point  of  not  admitting  to  their 
school  pupils  from  other  towns;  but  Horace  was  an  engaging 
child;  "every  one  liked  the  little,  white-headed  fellow,"  says  a 
surviving  member  of  the  school  committee,  "and  so  we  favored 
him." 

A  district  school — and  what  was  a  district  school  forty  years 
ago?  Horace  Greeley  never  attended  any  but  a  district  school,  and 
it  concerns  us  to  know  what  manner  of  place  it  was,  and  what 
was  its  routine  of  exercises. 

The  school-house  stood  in  an  open  place,  formed  (usually)  by  the 
crossing  of  roads.  It  was  very  small,  and  of  one  story  ;  contained 
one  apartment,  had  two  windows  on  each  side,  a  small  door  in  the 
gable  end  that  faced  the  road,  and  a  low  door-step  before  it.  It 
was  the  thing  called  HOUSE,  in  its  simplest  form.  But  for  its  roof, 
windows,  and  door,  it  had  been  a  BOX,  large,  rough,  and  unpainted. 
Within  and  without,  it  was  destitute  of  anything  ornamental.  It 
was  not  enclosed  by  a  fence ;  it  was  not  shaded  by  a  tree.  The  sun 
in  summer,  the  winds  in  winter,  had  their  will  of  it :  there  was  no 
thing  to  avert  the  fury  of  either.  The  log  school-houses  of  the  pre 
vious  generation  were  picturesque  and  comfortable ;  those  of  the 
present  time  are  as  prim,  neat,  and  orderly  (and  as  elegant  some 
times)  as  the  cottage  of  an  old  maid  who  enjoys  an  annuity;  but  the 
school-house  of  forty  years  ago  had  an  aspect  singularly  forlorn  and 
uninviting.  It  was  built  for  an  average  of  thirty  pupils,  but  it  fre 
quently  contained  fifty  ;  and  then  the  little  school-room  was  a  com 
pact  mass  of  young  humanity  :  the  teacher  had  to  dispense  with 
his  table,  and  was  lucky  if  he  could  find  room  for  his  chair.  The 
side  of  the  apartment  opposite  the  door  was  occupied,  chiefly,  by  a 
vast  fireplace,  four  or  five  feet  wide,  where  a  carman's  load  of  wood 
could  burn  in  one  prodigious  fire.  Along  the  sides  of  the  room  was 
a  low,  slanting  shelf,  which  served  for  a  desk  to  those  who  wrote, 
and  against  the  sharp  edge  of  which  the  elder  pupils  leaned  when 
they  were  not  writing.  The  seats  were  made  of  "  slabs,"  inverted, 
supported  on  sticks,  and  without  backs.  The  elder  pupils  sat  along 
the  sides  of  the  room, — the  girls  on  one  side,  the  boys  on  the  other ; 
the  youngest  sat  nearest  the  fire,  where  they  were  as  much  too 
warm  as  those  wlu  sat  near  the  door  were  too  cold.  In  a  school 
of  forty  pupils,  th  >re  would  bo  a  dozen  who  were  grown  up,  mar- 


40  EARLY   CHILDHOOD. 

riageable  young  men  and  women.  Not  unfreqi.entl)  married  men. 
and  occasionally  married  women,  attended  school  in  the  winter. 
Among  the  younger  pupils,  there  were  usually  a  dozen  who  could 
not  read,  and  half  as  many  who  did  not  know  the  alphabet.  The 
teacher  was,  perhaps,  one  of  the  farmer's  sons  of  the  district,  who 
knew  a  little  more  than  his  elder  pupils,  and  only  a  little ;  or  he 
was  a  student  who  was  working  his  way  through  college.  His 
wages  were  those  of  a  farm-laborer,  ten  or  twelve  dollars  a  month 
and  his  board.  He  boarded  u  round"  L  e.  he  lived  a  few  days  at 
each  of  the  houses  of  the  district,  stopping  longest  at  the  most 
agreeable  place.  The  grand  qualification  of  a  teacher  was  the  abil 
ity  "  to  do"  any  sum  in  the  arithmetic.  To  know  arithmetic  was  to 
be  a  learned  man.  Generally,  the  teacher  was  very  young,  some 
times  not  more  than  sixteen  years  old ;  but,  if  he  possessed  the  due 
expertness  at  figures,  if  he  could  read  the  Bible  without  stumbling 
over  the  long  words,  and  without  mispronouncing  more  than  two 
thirds  of  the  proper  names,  if  he  could  write  well  enough  to  set  a 
decent  copy,  if  he  could  mend  a  pen,  if  he  had  vigor  enough  of 
character  to  assert  his  authority,  and  strength  enough  of  arm  to 
maintain  it,  he  would  do.  The  school  began  at  nine  in  the  morn 
ing,  and  the  arrival  of  that  hour  was  announced  by  the  teacher's 
rapping  upon  the  window  frame  with  a  ruler.  The  boys,  and  the 
girls  too,  came  tumbling  in,  rosy  and  glowing,  from  their  snow 
balling  and  sledding.  The  first  thing  done  in  school  was  reading. 
The  "  first  class,"  consisting  of  that  third  of  the  pupils  who  could 
read  best,  stood  on  the  floor  and  read  round  once,  each  individual 
reading  about  half  a  page  of  the  English  Reader.  Then  the  second 
class.  Then  the  third.  Last  of  all,  the  youngest  children  said  their 
letters.  By  that  time,  a  third  of  the  morning  was  over ;  and  then 
the  reading  began  again ;  for  public  opinion  demanded  of  the  teach 
er  that  he  should  hear  every  pupil  read  four  times  a  day,  twice  in 
the  morning  and  twice  in  the  afternoon.  Those  who  were  not  in 
the  class  reading,  were  employed,  or  were  supposed  to  be  employed, 
in  ciphering  or  writing.  When  they  wanted  to  write,  they  went  to 
the  teacher  with  their  writing-book  and  pen,  and  he  set  a  copy, — 
u  Procrastination  is  the  thief  of  time,"  u  Contentment  is  a  virtue," 
or  some  other  wise  saw, — and  mended  the  pen.  When  they  were 
puzzled  with  a  "sum,"  they  went  to  the  teacher  to  have  it  elucidat- 


THE    SPELLING   SCHOOL.  41 

ed.  They  seem  to  have  written  and  ciphered  as  much  or  as  little 
as  they  chose,  at  what  time  they  chose,  and  in  what  manner.  Ir 
some  schools  there  were  classes  in  arithmetic  and  regular  instruc 
tion  in  writing,  and  one  class  in  grammar ;  hut  such  schools,  forty 
years  ago,  were  rare.  The  exercises  of  the  morning  were  concluded 
with  a  general  spell,  the  teacher  giving  out  the  words  from  a  spell 
ing-book,  and  the  pupils  spelling  them  at  the  top  of  their  voices. 
At  noon  the  school  was  dismissed ;  at  one  it  was  summoned  again, 
to  go  through,  for  the  next  three  hours,  precisely  the  same  routine 
as  that  of  the  morning.  In  this  rude  way  the  last  generation  of 
children  learned  to  read,  write,  and  cipher.  But  they  learned 
something  more  in  those  rude  cchool-houses.  They  learned  obedi 
ence.  They  were  tamed  and  disciplined.  The  means  employed 
were  extremely  unscientific,  but  the  thing  was  done!  The  means, 
in  fact,  were  merely  a  ruler,  and  what  was  called,  in  contradistinc 
tion  to  that  milder  weapon,  "  the  heavy  gad ;"  by  which  express 
ion  was  designated  five  feet  of  elastic  sapling  of  one  year's  growth. 
These  two  implements  were  plied  vigorously  and  often.  Girls  got 
their  full  share  of  them.  Girls  old  enough  to  be  wives  were  no 
more  exempt  than  the  young  men  old  enough  to  marry  them,  who 
sat  on  the  other  side  of  the  schoolroom.  It  was  thought,  that  if  a 
youth  of  either  sex  was  not  too  old  to  do  wrong,  neither  he  nor  she 
was  too  old  to  suffer  the  consequences.  In  some  districts,  a  teacher 
was  valued  in  proportion  to  his  severity  ;  and  if  he  were  backward 
in  applying  the  ferule  and  the  "  gad,"  the  parents  soon  began  to  be 
uneasy.  They  thought  he  had  no  energy,  and  inferred  that  the 
children  could  not  be  learning  much.  In  the  district  schools,  then, 
of  forty  years  ago,  all  the  pupils  learned  to  read  and  to  obey ;  most 
of  them  learned  to  write ;  many  acquired  a  competent  knowledge 
of  figures;  a  few  learned  the  rudiments  of  grammar;  and  if  any 
learned  more  than  these,  it  was  generally  due  to  their  unassisted 
and  unencouraged  exertions.  There  were  no  school-libraries  at  that 
time.  The  teachers  usually  possessed  little  general  information,  and 
the  little  they  did  possess  was  not  often  made  to  contribute  to  the 
mental  nourishment  of  their  pupils. 

On  one  of  the  first  benches  of  the  Londonderry  school-house,  neai 
the  fire,  we  may  imagine  the  little  white-headed  fellow,  whom  every 
body  liked,  to  be  seated  during  the  winters  of  1813-14  and  '14-'15.  He 


42  EARLY    CHILDHOOD. 

was  eager  to  go  to  school.  When  the  snow  lay  on  the  ground  in 
drifts  too  deep  for  him  to  wade  through,  one  of  his  aunts,  who  still 
lives  to  tell  the  story,  would  take  him  up  on  her  shoulders  and 
carry  him  to  the  door.  lie  was  the  possessor  that  winter,  of  three 
books,  the  "  Columbian  Orator,"  Morse's  Geography,  and  a  spell 
ing  book.  From  the  Columbian  Orator,  he  learned  many  pieces  by 
heart,  and  among  others,  that  very  celebrated  oration  which  prob 
ably  the  majority  of  the  inhabitants  of  this  nation  have  at  some  pe 
riod  of  their  lives  been  able  to  repeat,  beginning, 

"  You  'd  scarce  expect  one  of  my  age 
To  speak  in  public  on  the  stage." 

One  of  his  schoolfellows  has  a  vivid  remembrance  of  Horace's  re 
citing  this  piece  before  the  whole  school  in  Londonderry,  before  he 
was  old  enough  to  utter  the  words  plainly.  He  had  a  lisping, 
winning  little  voice,  says  my  informant,  but  spoke  with  the  utmost 
confidence,  and  greatly  to  the  amusement  of  the  school.  He  spoke 
the  piece  eo  often  in  public  and  private,  as  to  become,  as  it  were, 
identified  with  it,  as  a  man  who  knows  one  song  suggests  that 
song  by  his  presence,  and  is  called  upon  to  sing  it  wherever  he 
goes. 

It  is  a  pity  that  no  one  thinks  of  the  vast  importance  of  those 
"Orators"  and  reading  books  which  the  children  read  and  wear 
out  in  reading,  learning  parts  of  them  by  heart,  and  repeating 
them  'over  and  over,  till  they  become  fixed  in  the  memory  and 
embedded  in  the  character  forever.  And  it  is  a  pity  that  those 
books  should  contain  so  much  false  sentiment,  inflated  language, 
Buncombe  oratory,  and  other  trash,  as  they  generally  do !  To 
compile  a  series  of  Reading  Books  for  the  common  schools  of 
this  country,  were  a  task  for  a  conclave  of  the  wisest  and  best  men 
and  women  that  ever  lived ;  a  task  worthy  of  them,  both  from  its 
difficulty  and  the  incalculable  extent  of  its  possible  results. 

Spelling  was  the  passion  of  the  little  orator  during  the  first  win 
ters  of  his  attendance  at  school.  He  spelt  incessantly  in  school  and 
out  of  school.  He  would  lie  on  the  floor  at  his  grandfather's  house, 
for  hours  at  a  time,  spelling  hard  words,  all  that  he  could  find  in 
the  Bible  and  the  few  other  books  within  his  reach.  It  was  the 


RECOLLECTIONS    OF   HIS    SURVIVING   SCHOOLFELLOWS.  43 

standing  amusement  of  the  family  to  try  and  puzzle  the  boy  with 
words,  and  no  one  remembers  succeeding.  Spelling,  moreover, 
was  one  of  the  great  points  of  the  district  schools  in  those  days, 
and  he  who  could  out-spell,  or,  as  the  phrase  was,  "  spell  down  " 
the  whole  school,  ranked  second  only  to  him  who  surpassed  the 
rest  in  arithmetic.  Those  were  the  palmy  days  of  the  spelling- 
school.  The  pupils  assembled  once  a  week,  voluntarily,  at  the 
school-house,  chose  "  sides,"  and  contended  with  one  another  long 
and  earnestly  for  the  victory.  Horace,  young  as  he  was,  was  eager 
to  attend  the  spelling  school,  and  was  never  known  to  injure  the 
"side"  on  which  he  was  chosen  by  missing  a  word,  and  it  soon 
became  a  prime  object  at  the  spelling-school  to  get  the  first  choice, 
because  that  enabled  the  lucky  side  to  secure  the  powerful  aid  of 
Horace  Greeley.  He  is  well  remembered  by  his  companions  in  or 
thography.  They  delight  still  to  tell  of  the  little  fellow,  in  the 
long  evenings,  falling  asleep  in  his  place,  and  when  it  came  his 
turn,  his  neighbors  gave  him  an  anxious  nudge,  and  he  would  wake 
instantly,  spell  off  his  word,  and  drop  asleep  again  in  a  moment. 

Horace  went  to  school  three  terms  in  Londonderry,  spending 
part  of  each  year  at  home.  I  will  state  as  nearly  as  possible  in 
their  own  words,  what  his  school-fellows  there  remember  of  him. 

One  of  them  can  just  recall  him  as  a  very  small  boy  with  a  head  as 
white  as  snow,  who  "  was  almost  always  up  head  in  his  class,  and  took 
it  so  much  to  heart  when  he  did  happen  to  lose  his  place,  that  he 
would  cry  bitterly ;  so  that  some  boys  when  they  had  gained  the  right 
to  get  above  him,  declined  the  honor,  because  it  hurt  Horace's 
feelings  so."  He  was  the  pet  of  the  school.  Those  whom  he  used 
to  excel  most  signally  liked  him  as  well  as  the  rest.  He  was  an. 
active,  bright,  eager  boy,  but  not  fond  of  play,  and  seldom  took 
part  in  the  sports  of  the  other  boys.  One  muster  day,  this  inform 
ant  remembers,  the  clergyman  of  Londonderry,  who  had  heard 
glowing  accounts  of  Horace's  feats  at  school,  took  him  on  his  lap  in 
the  field,  questioned  him  a  long  time,  tried  to  puzzle  him  with  hard 
words,  and  concluded  by  saying  with  strong  emphasis  to  one  of  the 
boy's  relatives,  "  Mark  my  words,  Mr.  Woodburn,  that  boy  was  not 
made  for  nothing." 

Another,  besides  confirming  the  above,  adds  that  Horace  was 
in  some  respects  exceedingly  brave,  and  in  others  exceedingly  tim 


44  EARLY    CHILDHOOD. 

orous.  He  was  never  afraid  of  the  dark,  could  not  be  frightened 
by  ghost-stories,  never  was  abashed  in  speaking  or  reciting,  was 
not  to  be  overawed  by  supposed  superiority  of  knowledge  or  rank, 
would  talk  up  to  the  teacher  and  question  his  decision  with  perfect 
freedom,  though  never  in  a  spirit  of  impertinence.  Yet  he  could 
not  stand  up  to  a  boy  and  fight.  When  attacked,  he  would  nei 
ther  fight  nor  run  away,  but  "  stand  still  and  take  it."  His  ear 
was  so  delicately  constructed  that  any  loud  noise,  like  the  report  of 
a  gun,  would  almost  throw  him  into  convulsions.  If  a  gun  were 
about  to  be  discharged,  he  would  either  run  away  as  fast  as  his 
legs  could  carry  him,  or  else  would  throw  himself  upon  the 
ground  and  stuff  grass  into  his  ears  to  deaden  the  dreadful  noise. 
On  the  fourth  of  July,  when  the  people  of  Londonderry  inflamed 
their  patriotism  by  a  copious  consumption  of  gunpowder,  Horace 
would  run  into  the  woods  to  get  beyond  the  sound  of  the  cannons 
and  pistols.  It  was  at  Londonderry,  and  about  his  fourth  year,  that 
Horace  began  the  habit  of  reading  or  book-devouring,  which  ho 
never  lost  during  all  the  years  of  his  boyhood,  youth,  and  appren 
ticeship,  and  relinquished  only  when  he  entered  that  most  exacting 
of  all  professions,  the  editorial.  The  gentleman  whose  reminis 
cences  I  am  now  recording,  tells  me  that  Horace  in  his  fifth  and 
sixth  years,  would  lie  under  a  tree  on  his  face,  reading  hour  after 
hour,  completely  absorbed  in  his  book ;  and  "  if  no  one  stumbled 
over  him  or  stirred  him  up,"  would  read  on,  unmindful  of  dinnei 
time  and  sun-set,  as  long  as  he  could  see.  It  was  his  delight  ii 
books  that  made  him,  when  little  more  than  an  infant,  determin» 
to  be  a  printer,  as  printers,  he  supposed,  were  they  who  made  books 
"  One  day,"  says  this  gentleman,  "  Horace  and  I  went  to  a  black 
smith's  shop,  and  Horace  watched  the  process  of  horse-shoeing  with 
much  interest.  The  blacksmith,  observing  how  intently  he  looked 
on,  said,  '  You  'd  better  come  with  me  and  learn  the  trade.'  *  Ko,^ 
said  Horace  in  his  prompt, decided  way,  4 1  'in  going  to  be  a  printer.' 
He  was  then  six  years  old,  and  very  small  for  his  age ;  and  this  pos 
itive  choice  of  a  career  by  so  diminutive  a  piece  of  humanity, 
mightily  amused  the  by-standers.  The  blacksmith  used  to  tell  the 
story  with  great  glee  when  Horace  was  a  printer,  and  one  of  some 
note." 
Another  gentleman,  who  went  to  school  with  Horace  at  London- 


RECOLLECTIONS    OF   HIS    SURVIVING    SCHOOLFELLOWS.  45 

deny,  writes : — "  I  think  I  attended  school  with  Horace  Greeley 
two  summers  and  two  winters,  but  have  no  recollection  of  seeing 
him  except  at  the  school-house.  He  was  an  exceedingly  mild,  quiet 
and  inoffensive  child,  entirely  devoted  to  his  books  at  school.  It 
used  to  be  said  in  the  neighborhood,  that  he  was  the  same  out  of 
school,  and  that  his  parents  were  obliged  to  secrete  his  books  to 
prevent  his  injuring  himself  by  over  study.  His  devotion  to  his 
books,  together  with  the  fact  of  his  great  advancement  beyond 
others  of  his  age  in  the  few  studies  then  pursued  in  the  district 
school,  rendered  him  notorious  in  that  part  of  the  town.  He  was 
regarded  as  a  prodigy,  and  his  name  was  a  household  world.  He 
was  looked  upon  as  standing  alone,  and  entirely  unapproachable  by 
any  of  the  little  mortals  around  him.  Reading,  parsing,  and  spelling 
are  the  only  branches  of  learning  which  I  remember  him  in,  or  in 
connection  with  which  his  name  was  at  that  time  mentioned, 
though  he  might  have  given  some  attention  to  writing  and  arith 
metic,  which  completed  the  circle  of  studies  in  the  district;  school  at 
that  time;  but  in  the  three  branches  first  named  he  excelled  all,  even 
in  the  winter  school,  which  was  attended  by  several  young  men  and 
women,  some  of  whom  became  teachers  soon  after.  Though 
mild  and  quiet,  he  was  ambitious  in  the  school ;  to  be  at  the  head 
of  his  class,  and  be  accounted  the  best  scholar  in  school,  seemed 
to  be  prominent  objects  with  him,  and  to  furnish  strong  motives  to 
effort.  I  can  recall  but  one  instance  of  his  missing  a  word  in  tho 
spelling  class.  The  classes  went  on  to  the  floor  to  spell,  and  he  al 
most  invariably  stood  at  the  head  of  the  'first  class,'  embracing 
the  most  advanced  scholars.  He  stood  there  at  the  time  referred 
to,  and  by  missing  a  word,  lost  his  place,  which  so  grieved  him  that 
he  wept  like  a  punished  child.  While  I  knew  him  he  did  not  en 
gage  with  other  children  in  the  usual  recreations  hiid  amuse 
ments  of  the  school  grounds ;  as  soon  as  the  school  was  dismissed  at 
noon,  he  would  start  for  home,  a  distance  of  half  a  mile,  with  all 
his  books  u  ider  his  arm,  including  the  New  Testament,  Webster's 
Spelling  Book,  English  Header,  &c.,  and  would  not  return  till  the 
last  moment  of  intermission  ;  at  least  such  was  his  practice  in  the 
Bummer  time.  With  regard  to  his  aptness  in  spelling,  it  used  to  be 
said  that  the  minister  of  the  town,  Rev.  Mr.  McGregor,  once  at 
tempted  to  find  a  w  ~d  or  name  in 'the  Bible  which  he  could  nol 


46  EARLY    CHILDHOOD. 

spell  correctly,  but  It/tad  to  do  so.  I  always  supposed,  however, 
that  this  was  an  exaggeration,  for  he  could  not  have  been  more  than 
ieven  years  old  at  the  time  this  was  told.  My  father  soon  after  re 
moved  to  another  town  thirty  miles  distant,  and  I  lost  sight  of  the 
family  entirely,  Horace  and  all,  though  I  always  remembered  the 
gentle,  flaxen-haired  schoolmate  with  much  interest,  and  often  won 
dered  what  became  of  him  ;  and  when  the  'Log  Cabin'  appeared, 
I  took  much  pains  to  assure  myself  whether  this  Horace  Greeley 
was  the  same  little  Horace  grown  up,  and  found  it  was." 

From  his  sixth  year,  Horace  resided  chiefly  at  his  father's  house. 
He  was  now  old  enough  to  walk  to  the  nearest  school-house,  a  mil« 
and  a  half  from  his  home.  He  could  read  fluently,  spell  any  word 
in  the  language ;  had  some  knowledge  of  geography,  and  a  little  of 
arithmetic ;  had  read  the  Bible  through  from  Genesis  to  Revela 
tions  ;  had  read  the  Pilgrim's  Progress  with  intense  interest,  and 
dipped  into  every  other  book  he  could  lay  his  hands  on.  From  his 
sixth  to  his  tenth  year,  he  lived,  worked,  read  and  went  to  school, 
in  Amherst  and  the  adjoining  town  of  Bedford.  Those  who  were 
then  his  neighbors  and  schoolmates  there,  have  a  lively  recollection 
of  the  boy  and  his  ways. 

Henceforth,  he  went  to  school  only  in  the  winter.  Again  he  at 
tended  a  school  which  he  had  no  right  to  attend,  that  of  Bedford, 
and  his  attendance  was  not  merely  permitted,  but  sought.  The 
school-committee  expressly  voted,  that  no  pupils  from  other  towne 
should  be  received  at  their  school,  except  Horace  Greeley  alone; 
and,  on  entering  the  school,  he  took  his  place,  young  as  he  was,  at 
the  head  of  it,  as  it  were,  by  acclamation.  Nor  did  his  superiority 
ever  excite  envy  or  enmity.  He  bore  his  honors  meekly.  Every 
one  liked  the  boy,  and  took  pride  in  his  superiority  to  themselves. 
All  his  schoolmates  agree  in  this,  that  Horace  never  had  an  ene 
my  at  school. 

The  snow  lies  deep  on  those  New  Hampshire  hills  in  the  winter, 
and  presents  a  serious  obstacle  to  the  younger  children  in  their  way 
to  the  school-house ;  nor  is  it  the  rarest  of  disasters,  even  now,  for 
children  to  be  lost  in  a  drift,  and  frozen  to  death.  (Such  a  calam 
ity  happened  two  years  ago,  within  a  mile  or  two  ot  the  old  Gree 
ley  homestead.)  "  Many  a  morning,"  says  one  of  the  neighbors — 
then,  a  stout  schoolboy,  now  a  sturdy  farmer— "many  a  morning  T 


HIS    EARLY    FONDNESS    FOR    THE    VILLAGE    NEWSPAPER.          4:7 

have  carried  Horace  on  ray  back  through  the  drifts  to  school,  and 
put  my  own  mittens  over  his,  to  keep  his  little  hands  from  freez 
ing  "  He  adds,  "  I  lived  at  the  next  house,  and  I  and  my  brothers 
often  went  down  in  the  evening  to  play  with  him ;  but  he  never 
would  play  with  us  till  he  had  got  his  lessons.  We  could  neither 
coax  nor  force  him  to."  He  remembers  Horace  as  a  boy  of  a  bright 
and  active  nature,  but  neither  playful  nor  merry  ;  one  who  would 
utter  acute  and  "  old-fashioned"  remarks,  and  make  more  fun  for 
others  than  he  seemed  to  enjoy  himself. 

His  fondness  for  reading  grew  with  the  growth  of  his  mind,  till 
it  amounted  to  a  passion.  His  father's  stock  of  books  was  small 
indeed.  It  consisted  of  a  Bible,  a  "  Confession  of  Faith,"  and  per 
haps  all  told,  twenty  volumes  beside ;  and  they  by  no  means  of  a 
kind  calculated  to  foster  a  love  of  reading  in  the  mind  of  a  little 
boy.  But  a  weekly  newspaper  came  to  the  house  from  the  village 
of  Amherst;  and,  except  his  mother's  tales,  that  newspaper  proba 
bly  had  more  to  do  with  the  opening  of  the  boy's  mind  and  the 
tendency  of  his  opinions,  than  anything  else.  The  family  well  re 
member  the  eagerness  with  which  he  anticipated  its  coming.  Pa 
per-day  was  the  brightest  of  the  week.  An  hour  before  the  post- 
rider  was  expected,  Horace  would  walk  down  the  road  to  meet 
him,  bent  on  having  the  first  read;  and  when  he  had  got  possession 
of  the  precious  sheet,  he  would  hurry  with  it  to  some  secluded 
place,  lie  down  on  the  grass,  and  greedily  devour  its  contents.  The 
paper  was  called  (and  is  still)  the  Farmer's  Cabinet.  It  was  mildly 
Whig  in  politics.  The  selections  were  religious,  agricultural,  and 
miscellaneous  ;  the  editorials  few,  brief,  and  amiable ;  its  summary 
of  news  scanty  in  the  extreme.  But  it  was  the  only  bearer  of  tid 
ings  from  the  Great  World.  It  connected  the  little  brown  house  on 
the  rocky  hill  of  Amherst  with  the  general  life  of  mankind.  The 
boy,  before  he  could  read  himself,  and  before  he  could  understand 
the  meaning  of  War  and  bloodshed,  doubtless  heard  his  father  read 
in  it  of  the  triumphs  and  disasters  of  the  Second  War  with  Great 
Britain,  and  of  the  rejoicings  at  the  conclusion  of  peace.  He  him 
self  may  have  read  of  Decatur's  gallantry  in  the  war  with  Algiers, 
of  Wellington's  victory  at  Waterloo,  of  Napoleon's  fretting  away 
his  life  on  the  rock  of  St.  Helena,  of  Monroe's  inauguration,  of  the 
dismantling  of  the  fleets  on  the  great  l^kes,  of  the  prog)  ess  of  tho 


48  EARLY    CHILDHOOD. 

Erie  Canal  project,  of  Jackson's  inroads  into  Florida,  and  the  subse 
quent  cession  of  that  province  to  the  United  States,  of  the  first 
meeting  of  Congress  in  the  Capitol,  of  the  passage  of  the  Missouri 
Compromise.  During  the  progress  of  the  various  commercial  trea 
ties  with  the  States  of  Europe,  which  were  negotiated  after  the 
conclusion  of  the  general  peace,  the  whole  theory,  practice,  and  his 
tory  of  commercial  intercourse,  were  amply  discussed  in  Congress 
anl  the  newspapers ;  and  the  mind  of  Horace,  even  in  his  ninth 
year,  was  mature  enough  to  take  some  interest  in  the  subject,  and 
derive  some  impressions  from  its  discussion.  The  Farmer's  Cabinet, 
which  brought  all  these  and  countless  othei  ideas  and  events  to 
bear  on  the  education  of  the  boy,  is  now  one  of  the  thousand  pa 
pers  with  which  the  Tribune  exchanges. 

Horace  scoured  the  country  for  books.  Books  were  books  in  thai; 
remote  and  secluded  region ;  and  when  he  had  exhausted  the  col 
lections  of  the  neighbors,  he  carried  the  search  into  the  neighbor 
ing  towns.  I  am  assured  that  there  was  not  one  readable  book 
within  seven  miles  of  his  father's  house,  which  Horace  did  not  bor 
row  and  read  during  his  residence  in  Amherst.  He  was  never 
without  a  book.  As  soon,  says  one  of  his  sisters,  as  he  was  dressed 
in  the  morning,  he  flew  to  his  book.  He  read  every  minute  of  *he 
day  which  he  could  snatch  from  his  studies  at  schoc/l,  and  on  the 
farm.  He  would  be  so  absorbed  in  his  reading,  that  when  his  pa 
rents  required  his  services,  it  was  like  rousing  a  heavy  sleeper  from 
his  deepest  sleep,  to  awaken  Horace  to  a  sense  of  things  around 
him  and  an  apprehension  of  the  duty  required  of  him.  And  even 
then  he  clung  to  his  book.  He  would  go  reading  to  the  cellar  and 
the  cider-barrel,  reading  to  the  wood-pile,  reading  to  the  garden, 
reading  to  the  neighbors ;  and  pocketing  his  book  only  long  enough 
to  perform  his  errand,  he  would  fall  to  reading  again  the  instant  his 
mind  and  his  hands  were  at  liberty. 

He  kept  in  a  secure  place  an  ample  supply  of  pine  knots,  and  as 
soon  as  it  was  dark  he  would  light  one  of  these  cheap  and  brilliant 
illuminators,  put  it  on  the  back-log  in  the  spacious  fire-place,  pile 
up  his  school  books  and  his  reading  books  on  the  floor,  lie  down  on 
his  back  on  the  hearth,  with  his  head  to  the  fire  and  his  feet  coiled 
away  out  of  the  reach  of  stumblers;  and  there  he  would  lie  and 
read  all  through  the  long  winter  evenings,  silent,  motionless,  dead 


SCOURS    THE    COUNTRY   FOR   BOOKS.  49 

to  the  world  around  him,  alive  only  to  the  world  to  which  he  was 
transported  by  his  book.  Visitors  would  come  in,  chat  a  while, 
and  go  away,  without  knowing  he  was  present,  and  without  his 
being  aware  of  their  coming  and  going.  It  was  a  nightly  struggle 
to  get  him  to  bed.  His  father  required  his  services  early  in  the 
morning,  and  was  therefore  desirous  that  he  should  go  to  bed  early 
in  the  evening.  He  feared,  also,  for  the  eye-sight  of  the  boy,  read 
ing  so  many  hours  with  his  head  in  the  fire  and  by  the  flaring,  flicker 
ing  light  of  a  pine  knot.  And  so,  by  nine  o'clock,  his  father  would 
begin  the  task  of  recalling  the  absent  mind  from  its  roving,  and 
rousing  the  prostrate  and  dormant  body.  And  when  Horace  at 
length  had  been  forced  to  beat  a  retreat,  he  kept  his  younger 
brother  awake  by  telling  over  to  him  in  bed  what  he  had  read,  and 
by  reciting  the  school  lessons  of  the  next  day.  His  brother  was  by 
no  means  of  a  literary  turn,  and  was  prone — much  to  the  chagrin 
of  Horace — to  fall  asleep  long  before  the  lessons  were  all  said  and 
the  tales  all  told. 

So  entire  and  passionate  a  devotion  to  the  acquisition  of  knowl 
edge  in  one  so  young,  would  be  remarkable  in  any  circumstances. 
But  when  the  situation  of  the  boy  is  considered — living  in  a  remote 
and'cery  rural  district — few  books  accessible — few  literary  persons  re 
siding  near — the  school  contributing  scarcely  anything  to  his  mental 
nourishment — no  other  boy  in  the  neighborhood  manifesting  any 
particular  interest  in  learning — the  people  about  him  all  engaged  in 
a  rude  and  hard  struggle  to  extract  the  means  of  subsistence  from 
a  rough  and  rocky  soil — such  an  intense,  absorbing,  and  persistent 
love  of  knowledge  as  that  exhibited  by  Horace  Greeley,  must  be 
accounted  very  extraordinary. 

That  his  neighbors  so  accounted  it,  they  are  still  eager  to  attest. 
Continually  the  wonder  grew,  that  one  small  head  should  carry  all 
he  knew. 

There  were  not  wanting  those  who  thought  that  superior  means 
of  instruction  ought  to  be  placed  within  the  reach  of  so  superior 
a  child.  I  have  a  somewhat  vague,  but  very  positive,  and  fully  con 
firmed  story,  of  a  young  man  j'ist  returned  from  college  to  his 
father's  house  in  Bedford,  who  fell  in  with  Horace,  and  was  so 
struck  with  his  capacity  and  attainments  that  he  offered  to  send 
him  to  an  academy  in  a  neighboring  town,  and  bear  all  the  ex- 

3 


50  EARLY    CHILDHOOD. 

penses  of  his  maintenance  and  tuition.  But  his  mother  could  not 
let  him  go,  his  father  needed  his  assistance  at  home,  and  the  boy 
himself  is  said  not  to  have  favored  the  scheme.  A  wise,  a  fortunate 
choice,  I  cannot  help  believing.  That  academy  may  have  been  an 
institution  where  boys  received  more  good  than  harm — where  real 
knowledge  was  imparted — where  souls  were  inspired  with  the  love 
of  high  and  good  things,  and  inflamed  with  an  ambition  to  run  a 
high  and  good  career — where  boys  did  not  lose  all  their  modesty 
and  half  their  sense — where  chests  were  expanded — where 
cheeks  were  ruddy — where  limbs  were  active — where  stomachs 
were  peptic.  It  may  have  been.  But  if  it  was,  it  was  a  different 
academy  from  many  whose  praises  are  in  all  the  newspapers.  Jt 
was  better  not  to  run  the  risk.  If  that  young  man's  offe**  had  been 
accepted,  it  is  a  question  whether  the  world  would  have  ever  heard 
of  Horace  Greeley.  Probably  his  fragile  body  would  not  have  sus 
tained  the  brain-stimulating  treatment  which  a  forward  and  eager 
boy  generally  receives  at  an  academy. 

A  better  friend,  though  not  a  better  meaning  one,  was  a  jovial 
neighbor,  a  sea-captain,  who  had  taken  to  fanning.  The  captain 
had  seen  the  world,  possessed  the  yarn-spinning  faculty,  and  be 
sides  being  himself  a  walking  traveler's  library,  had  a  considerable 
collection  of  books,  which  he  freely  lent  Jx>  Horace.  His  salute,  on 
meeting  the  boy,  was  not  '  How  do  you  do,  Horace  ?'  but  l  Well, 
Horace,  what's  the  capital  of  Turkey  ?'  or,  '  Who  fought  the  battle 
of  Eutaw  Springs?'  or,  'How  do  you  spell  Encyclopedia,  or  K'amt- 
schai.ka,  or  Nebuchadnezzar  ?'  The  old  gentleman  used  to  question 
the  boy  upon  the  contents  of  the  books  he  had  lent  him,  and  was 
again  and  again  surprised  at  the  fluency,  the  accuracy,  and  the  full 
ness  of  his  replies.  The  captain  was  of  service  to  Horace  in  vari 
ous  ways,  and  he  is  remembered  by  the  family  with  gratitude.  To 
Horace's  brother  he  once  gave  a  sheep  and  a  load  of  hay  to  keep  it 
on  during  the  winter,  thus  adapting  his  benefactions  to  the  various1 
tastes  of  his  juvenile  friends. 

A  clergyman,  too,  is  spoken  of,  who  took  great  interest  in  Horace, 
and  gave  him  instruction  in  grammar,  often  giving  the  boy  er 
roneous  information  to  test  hia  knowledge.  Horace,  he  used  to 
»ay,  could  nerer  be  shaken  on  a  point  which  he  had  once  clearly 
understood,  but  would  stand  to  his  opinion,  and  defend  it  against 
anybody  and  everybody — teacher,  pastor,  or  public  opinion. 


HIS    WAT    OF   FISHING.  5j 

In  New  England,  the  sons  of  farmers  begin  to  make  themselvea 
useful  almost  as  soon  as  they  can  walk.  They  feed  the  chickens, 
they  drive  the  cows,  they  bring  in  wood  and  water,  and  soon  come 
to  perform  all  those  offices  which  come  under  the  denomination  of 
"  chores."  By  the  time  they  are  eight  or  nine  years  old,  they  fre 
quently  have  tasks  assigned  them,  which  are  called  "  stints,"  and 
not  till  they  have  done  their  stint  are  they  at  liberty  to  play. 
The  reader  may  think  that  Horace's  devotion  to  literature  would 
naturally  enough  render  the  farm  work  distasteful  to  him ;  anr1  if 
he  had  gone  to  the  academy,  it  might.  I  am  bound,  however,  to 
say  that  all  who  knew  him  in  boyhood,  agree  that  he  was  not  more 
devoted  to  study  in  his  leisure  hours,  than  he  was  faithful  and  assid 
uous  in  performing  his  duty  to  his  father  during  the  hours  of  work. 
Faitliful  is  the  word.  He  could  be  trusted  any  where,  and  to  do 
anything  within  the  compass  of  his  strength  and  years.  It  was 
hard,  sometimes,  to  rouse  him  from  his  books ;  but  when  he  had 
been  roused,  and  was  entrusted  with  an  errand  or  a  piece  of  work, 
he  would  set  about  it  vigorously,  and  lose  no  time  till  it  was  done. 
u  Come,"  his  brother  would  say  sometimes,  when  the  father  had 
set  the  boys  a  task  and  had  gone  from  home ;  "  come,  Hod,  let's  go 
fishing."  u  No,"  Horace  would  reply,  in  his  whining  voice,  "  let 
us  do  our  stint  first."  "  He  was  always  in  school,  though,"  says  his 
brother,  "  and  as  we  hoed  down  the  rows,  or  chopped  at  the  wood 
pile,  he  was  perpetually  talking  about  his  lessons,  asking  questions, 
and  narrating  what  he  had  read." 

Fishing,  it  appears,  was  the  only  sport  in  which  Horace  took 
much  pleasure,  during  the  first  ten  years  of  his  life.  But  his  love 
of  fishing  did  not  originate  in  what  the  Germans  call  the  "  sport 
impulse."  Other  boys  fished  for  sport;  Horace  fished  for  fish.  He 
fished  industriously,  keeping  his  eyes  unceasingly  on  the  float,  and 
never  distracting  his  own  attention,  or  that  of  the  fish,  by  convers 
ing  with  his  companions.  The  consequence  was  that  he  would 
often  catch  more  than  all  the  rest  of  the  party  put  together.  Shoot 
ing  was  the  favorite  amusement  of  the  boys  of  the  neighborhood, 
but  Horace  could  rarely  be  persuaded  to  take  part  in  it.  When 
he  did  accompany  a  shooting-party,  he  would  never  carry  or  dis 
charge  a  gun,  and  when  the  game  was  found  he  would  lie  down 
and  stop  his  ears  till  the  murder  had  been  done. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

HIS  FATHER  RUINED — REMOVAL  TO  VERMONT. 

New  Hampshire  before  the  era  of  manufactures — Causes  of  his  father's  failure- -Rum 
in  the  olden  time — An  execution  in  the  house — Flight  of  the  father — Horace  and 
the  Rum  Jug— Compromise  with  the  creditors— Removal  to  another  farm— Fi 
nal  ruin— Removal  to  Vermont— The  winter  journey— Poverty  of  the  family- 
Scene  at  their  new  home — Cheerfulness  in  misfortune. 

BUT  while  thus  Horace  was  growing  up  to  meet  his  destiny, 
pressing  forward  on  the  rural  road  to  learning,  and  secreting  char 
acter  in  that  secluded  home,  a  cloud,  undiscerned  by  him,  had  come 
over  his  father's  prospects.  It  began  to  gather  when  the  boy  was 
little  more  than  six  years  old.  In  his  seventh  year  it  broke,  and 
drove  the  family,  for  a  time,  from  house  and  land.  In  his  tenth,  it 
had  completed  its  work — his  father  was  a  ruined  man,  an  exile,  a 
fugitive  from  his  native  State. 

In  those  days,  before  the  great  manufacturing  towns  which  now 
afford  the  farmer  a  market  for  his  produce,  had  sprung  into  exist 
ence  along  the  shores  of  the  Merrimac,  before  a  net-work  of  rail 
roads  regulated  the  price  of  grain  in  the  barns  of  New  Hampshire 
by  the  standard  of  Mark  Lane,  a  farmer  of  New  Hampshire  was 
not,  in  his  best  estate,  very  far  from  ruin.  Some  articles  which 
forty  years  ago  were  quite  destitute  of  pecuniary  value,  now  afford 
an  ample  profit.  Fire-wood,  for  example,  when  Horace  Greeley 
was  a  boy,  could  seldom  be  sold  at  any  price.  It  was  usually 
burned  up  on  the  land  on  which  it  grew,  as  a  worthless  incumbrance. 
Fire-wood  now,  in  the  city  of  Manchester,  sells  for  six  dollars  a 
cord,  and  at  any  point  within  ten  miles  of  Manchester  for  four  dol 
lars.  Forty  years  ago,  farmers  had  little  surplus  produce,  and  that 
little  had  to  be  carried  far,  and  it  brought  little  money  home.  In 
short,  before  the  manufacturing  system  was  introduced  into  New 
Hampshire,  affording  employment  to  her  daughters  in  the  factory, 
to  her  sons  on  the  land,  New  Hampshire  was  a  poverty-stricken 
State. 


CAUSES   OF   HIS   FATHER'S    FAILURE.  53 

It  is  one  of  the  wonders  of  party  infatuation,  that  the  two  States 
which  if  they  have  not  gained  most,  have  certainly  most  to  gain 
from  the  "  American  system,"  should  have  always  been,  and  ehould 
still  he  its  most  rooted  opponents.  But  man  the  partisan,  like  man 
the  sectarian,  is,  always  was,  and  will  ever  he,  a  poor  creature. 

The  way  to  thrive  in  New  Hampshire  was  to  work  very  hard 
keep  the  store-bill  small,  stick  to  the  farm,  and  be  no  man's  security. 
Of  these  four  things,  Horace's  father  did  only  one — he  worked  hard. 
He  was  a  good  workman,  methodical,  skillful,  and  persevering. 
But  he  speculated  in  lumber,  and  lost  money  by  it.  He  was '  bound,' 
as  they  say  in  the  country,  for  another  man,  and  had  to  pay  the 
money  which  that  other  man  failed  to  pay.  He  had  a  free  and 
generous  nature,  lived  well,  treated  the  men  whom  he  employed 
liberally,  and  in  various  ways  swelled  his  account  with  the  store 
keeper. 

Those,  too,  were,  the  jolly,  bad  days,  when  everybody  drank 
strong  drinks,  and  no  one  supposed  that  the  affairs  of  life  could  pos 
sibly  be  transacted  without  its  agency,  any  more  than  a  machine 
could  go  without  the  lubricating  oil.  A  field  could  not  be  '  logged,1 
hay  could  no.t  be  got  in,  a  harvest  could  not  be  gathered,  unless  the 
jug  of  liquor  stood  by  the  spring,  and  unless  the  spring  was  visited 
many  times  in  the  day  by  all  hands.  No  visitor  could  be  sent  un- 
inoistened  away.  No  holiday  could  be  celebrated  without  drinking- 
booths.  At  weddings,  at  christenings,  at  funerals,  rum  seemed  to 
be  the  inducement  that  brought,  and  the  tie  that  bound,  the  com 
pany  together.  It  was  rum  that  cemented  friendship,  and  rum  that 
clinched  bargains ;  rum  that  kept  out  the  cold  of  winter,  and  rum 
that  moderated  the  summer's  heat.  Men  drank  it,  women  drank 
it,  children  drank  it.  There  were  families  in  which  the  first  duty 
of  every  morning  was  to  serve  around  to  all  its  members,  even  to 
the  youngest  child,  a  certain  portion  of  alcoholic  liquor.  Hum  had 
to  be  bought  with  money,  and  money  was  hard  to  get  in  New 
Hampshire.  Zaccheus  Greeley  was  not  the  man  to  stint  his  work* 
men.  At  his  house  and  on  his  farm  the  jug  was  never  empty.  In 
his  cellar  the  cider  never  was  out.  And  so,  by  losses  which  he 
could  not  help,  by  practices  which  had  not  yet  been  discovered  to 
be  unnecessary,  his  affairs  became  disordered,  and  he  began  to 
descend  the  easy  steep  that  leads  to  the  abyss  of  bankruptcy.  He 


54  HIS   FATHER   RUINED. REMOVAL    TO   VERMONT. 

arrive! — lingered  a  few  years  on  the  edge — was  pushed  in — and 
scrambled  out  on  the  other  side. 

It  was  on  a  Monday  morning.  There  had  been  a  long,  fierce 
rain,  and  the  clouds  still  hung  heavy  and  dark  over  the  hills. 
Horace,  then  only  nine  years  old,  on  coming  down  stairs  in  the 
morning,  saw  several  men  about  the  house;  neighbors,  some  of 
them;  others  were  strangers;  others  he  had  seen  in  the  village. 
He  was  too  young  to  know  the  nature  of  an  Execution,  and  by  what 
right  the  sheriff  and  a  party  of  men  laid  hands  upon  his  father's 
property.  His  father  had  walked  quietly  off  into  the  woods ;  for, 
at  that  period,  a  man's  person  was  not  exempt  from  seizure.  Horace 
had  a  vague  idea  that  the  men  had  come  to  rob  them  of  all  they 
possessed ;  and  wild  stories  are  afloat  in  the  neighborhood,  of  the 
boy's  conduct  on  the  occasion.  Some  say,  that  he  seized  a  hatchet, 
ran  to  the  neighboring  field,  and  began  furiously  to  cut  down  a  fa 
vorite  pear-tree,  saying,  "  They  shall  not  have  that,  anyhow."  But 
his  mother  called  him  off,  and  the  pear-tree  still  stands.  Another 
story  is,  that  he  went  to  one  of  his  mother's  closets,  and  taking  as 
many  of  her  dresses  as  he  could  grasp  in  his  arms,  ran  away  with 
them  into  the  woods,  hid  them  behind  a  rock,  and  then  came  back 
to  the  house  for  more.  Others  assert,  that  the  article  carried  off 
by  the  indignant  boy  was  not  dresses,  but  a  gallon  of  rurn.  Bot 
whatever  the  boy  did,  or  left  undone,  the  reader  may  imagine  that 
it  was  to  all  the  family  a  day  of  confusion,  anguish,  and  horror. 
Both  of  Horace's  parents  were  persons  of  incorruptible  honesty ; 
they  had  striven  hard  to  place  such  a  calamity  as  this  far  from  their 
house;  they  had  never  experienced  themselves,  nor  witnessed  at 
their  earlier  homes,  a  similar  scene ;  the  blow  was  unexpected ;  and 
mingled  with  their  sense  of  shame  at  being  publicly  degraded,  was 
a  feeling  of  honest  rage  at  the  supposed  injustice  of  so  summary  a 
proceeding.  It  was  a  dark  day ;  but  it  passed,  as  the  darkest  day 
will. 

An  "  arrangement"  was  made  with  the  creditors.  Mr.  Greeley 
gave  up  his  own  farm,  temporarily,  and  removed  to  another  in  the 
adjoining  town  of  Bedford,  which  he  cultivated  on  shares,  and  de 
voted  principally  to  the  raising  of  hops.  Misfortune  still  pursued 
him.  His  two  years'  experience  of  hop-growing  was  not  satisfac 
tory.  The  hop-market  was  depressed.  His  own  farm  iu  Amherst 


BEGINNING   THE   WORLD   ANEW.  55 

was  either  ill  managed  or  else  the  seasons  were  unfavorable.  Ho 
gave  up  the  hop-farm,  poorer  than  ever.  He  removed  back  to  his 
old  home  in  Ainherst.  A  little  legal  maneuvering  or  rascality  on 
the  part  of  a  creditor,  gave  the  finishing  blow  to  his  fortunes  ;  and, 
in  the  winter  of  1821,  he  gave  up  the  effort  to  recover  himself,  be 
came  a  bankrupt,  was  sold  out  of  house,  land,  and  household  goods 
by  the  sheriff,  and  fled  from  the  State  to  avoid  arrest,  leaving  his 
family  behind.  Horace  was  nearly  ten  years  old.  Some  of  the 
debts  then  left  unpaid,  he  discharged  in  part  thirty  years  after. 

Mr.  Greeley  had  to  begin  the  world  anew,  and  the  world  was  all 
before  him,  where  to  choose,  excepting  only  that  portion  of  it  which 
is  included  within  the  boundaries  of  New  Hampshire.  He  made  his 
way,  after  some  wandering,  to  the  town  of  Westhaven,  in  Rutland 
county,  Vermont,  about  a  hundred  and  twenty  miles  northwest  of 
his  former  residence.  There  he  found  a  large  landed  proprietor, 
who  had  made  one  fortune  in  Boston  as  a  merchant,  and  married 
another  in  Westhaven,  the  latter  consisting  of  an  extensive  tract 
of  land.  He  had  now  retired  from  business,  had  set  up  for  a  coun 
try  gentleman,  was  clearing  his  lands,  and  when  they  were  cleared 
he  rented  them  out  in  farms.  This  attempt  to  "  found  an  estate," 
in  the  European  style,  signally  failed.  The  "  mansion  house"  has 
been  disseminated  over  the  neighborhood,  one  wing  here,  another 
wing  there  ;  the  "  lawn"  is  untrimmed ;  the  attempt  at  a  park-gate 
l:as  lost  enough  of  the  paint  that  made  it  tawdry  once,  to  look 
shabby  now.  But  this  gentleman  was  useful  to  Zacchens  Greeley 
in  the  day  of  his  poverty.  He  gave  him  work,  rented  him  a  small 
house  nearly  opposite  the  park-gate  just  mentioned,  and  thus  en 
abled  him  in  a  few  weeks  to  transport  his  family  to  a  new  home. 

It  was  in  the  depth  of  winter  when  they  made  the  journey.  The 
teamster  that  drove  them  still  lives  to  tell  how  '  old  Zac  Greeley 
came  to  him,  and  wanted  he  should  take  his  sleigh  and  horses,  and 
go  over  with  him  to  New  Hampshire  State,  and  bring  his  family 
back  ;*  and  how,  when  they  had  got  a  few  miles  on  the  way,  he  said 
to  Zac,  said  he,  that  he  (Zac)  was  a  stranger  to  him,  and  he  did  n't 
feel  like  going  so  far  without  enough  to  secure  him;  and  so  Zac 
gave  him  enough  to  secure  him,  and  away  they  drove  to  New 
Hampshire  State.  One  sleigh  was  sufficient  to  convey  all  the  little 
property  the  law  had  left  the  family,  and  the  load  could  not  have 


56  HIS   FATHER   RUINED. REMOVAL   TO    VERMONT. 

been  a  heavy  one,  for  the  distance  was  accomplished  in  a  little  less 
than  three  days.  The  sleighing,  however,  was  good,  and  the  Con 
necticut  river  was  crossed  on  the  ice.  The  teamster  remembers 
well  the  intelligent, white-headed  boy  who  was  so  pressing  with  his 
questions,  as  they  rode  along  over  the  snow,  and  who  soon  exhaust 
ed  the  man's  knowledge  of  the  geography  of  the  region  in  which 
he  had  lived  all  his  days.  "  He  asked  me,"  says  he,  "  a  great  dea. 
about  Lake  Champlain,  and  how  far  it  was  from  Plattsburgh  to  this, 

that,  and  t'  other  place ;  but,  Lord !  he  told  me  a  d d  sight  more 

than  1  could  tell  him.11  The  passengers  in  the  sleigh  were  Horace, 
his  parents,  his  brother,  and  two  sisters,  and  all  arrived  safely  at  the 
little  house  in  Westhaven, — safely,  but  very,  very  poor.  They  pos 
sessed  the  clothes  they  wore  on  their  journey,  a  bed  or  two,  a  few 
— very  few— domestic  utensils,  an  antique  chest,  and  one  or  two 
other  small  relics  of  their  former  state  ;  and  they  possessed  nothing 
more. 

A  lady,  who  was  then  a  little  girl,  and,  as  little  girls  in  the  coun 
try  will,  used  to  run  in  and  out  of  the  neighbors'  houses  at  all  houn 
without  ceremony,  tells  me  that,  many  times,  during  that  winter 
she  saw  the  newly-arrived  family  taking  sustenance  in  the  follow 
ing  manner : — A  five-quart  milk-pan  filled  with  bean  porridge — an 
hereditary  dish  among  the  Scotch-Irish — was  placed  upon  the  floor, 
the  children  clustering  around  it.  Each  child  was  provided  with  a 
spoon,  and  dipped  into  the  porridge,  the  spoon  going  directly  from 
the  common  dish  to  the  particular  mo.uth,  without  an  intermediate 
landing  upon  a  plate,  the  meal  consisting  of  porridge,  and  porridge 
only.  The  parents  sat  at  a  table,  and  enjoyed  the  dignity  of  a  sep 
arate  dish.  This  was  a  homely  way  of  dining ;  but,  adds  my  kind 
informant,  "  they  seemed  so  happy  over  their  meal,  that  many  a 
time,  as  I  looked  upon  the  group,  I  wished  our  mother  would  let  us 
eat  in  that  way— it  seemed  so  much  better  than  sitting  at  a  table 
and  using  knives,  and  forks,  and  plates."  There  was  no  repining  in 
the  family  over  their  altered  circumstances,  nor  any  attempt  to  con 
ceal  the  scantiness  of  their  furniture.  To  what  the  world  calls  "  ap 
pearances"  they  seemed  constitutionally  insensible. 


CHAPTER    V. 

AT  WESTHAVEN,   VERMONT. 

Description  of  the  country— Clearing  up  Land— All  the  family  assist  a  la  Swiss-Fam 
ily-Robinson— Primitive  costume  of  Horace— His  early  indifference  to  dress— HU 
manner  and  attitude  in  school— A  Peacemaker  among  the  boys— Gets  into  a  scrape, 
and  out  of  it— Assists  his  school-fellows  in  their  studies— An  evening  scene  at 
home— Horace  knows  too  much — Disconcerts  his  teachers  by  his  questions — Leaves 
school— The  pine  knots  still  blaze  on  the  hearth— Reads  incessantly— Becomes  a 
great  draught  player — Bee-hunting — Reads  at  the  Mansion  House — Taken  for  an 
Idiot— And  for  a  possible  President— Reads  Mrs.  Hemans  with  rapture— A  Wolf 
Story— A  Pedestrian  Journey— Horace  and  the  horseman— Yoking  the  Oxen- 
Scene  with  an  old  Soaker — Rum  in  Westhaven — Horace's  First  Pledge— Narrow 
escape  from  drowning— His  religious  doubts— Becomes  a  Universalist— Discovers 
the  humbug  of  "  Democracy  "—Impatient  to  begin  his  apprenticeship. 

THE  family  were  gainers  in  some  important  particulars,  by  their 
change  of  residence.  The  land  was  better.  The  settlement  was 
more  recent.  There  was  a  better  chance  for  a  poor  man  to  acquire 
property.  And  what  is  well  worth  mention  for  its  effect  upon  the 
opening  mind  of  Horace,  the  scenery  was  grander  and  more  various. 
That  part  of  Rutland  county  is  in  nature's  large  manner.  Long 
ranges  of  hills,  with  bases  not  too  steep  for  cultivation,  but  rising 
into  lofty,  precipitous  and  fantastic  summits,  stretch  away  in  every 
direction.  The  low-lands  are  level  and  fertile.  Brooks  and  rivers 
come  out  from  among  the  hills,  where  they  have  been  officiating  as 
water-power,  and  flow  down  through  valleys  that  open  and  expand 
to  receive  them,  fertilizing  the  soil.  Roaming  among  these  hills, 
the  boy  must  have  come  frequently  upon  little  lakes  locked  in  on 
every  side,  without  apparent  outlet  or  inlet,  as  smooth  as  a  mirror, 
as  silent  as  the  grave.  Six  miles  from  his  father's  house  was  the 
great  Lake  Champlain.  He  could  not  see  it  from  his  father's  door, 
but  he  could  see  the  blue  mist  that  rose  from  its  surface  every 
morning  and  evening,  f.nd  hung  over  it,  a  cloud  veiling  a  Mystery. 
And  he  could  see  the  long  line  of  green  knoll-like  hills  that 
formed  its  opposite  shore.  And  he  could  go  down  on  Sundays  to 
the  shore  itself,  and  stand  in  the  immediate  presence  of  the  lake. 

3* 


58  AT    WESTHAVEN,    VERMONT. 

Nor  is  it  a  slight  tiling  for  a  boy  to  see  a  great  natural  object  which 
he  has  been  learning  about  in  his  school  books ;  nor  is  it  an  unin- 
fluential  circumstance  for  him  to  live  where  he  can  see  it  frequent 
ly.  It  was  a  superb  country  for  a  boy  to  grow  up  in,  whether  his 
tendencies  were  industrial,  or  sportive,  or  artistic,  or  poetical. 
There  was  rough  work  enough  to  do  on  the  land.  Fish  were 
abundant  in  the  lakes  and  streams.  Game  abounded  in  the  woods. 
Wild  grapes  and  wild  honey  were  to  be  had  for  the  search  after 
them.  Much  of  the  surrounding  scenery  is  sublime,  and  what  is 
not  sublime  is  beautiful.  Moreover,  Lake  Champlain  is  a  stage  on 
the  route  of  northern  and  southern  travel,  and  living  upon  its  shores 
brought  the  boy  nearer  to  that  world  in  which  he  was  destined  to 
move,  and  which  he  had  to  know  before  he  could  work  in  it  to 
advantage.  At  Westhaven,  Horace  passed  the  next  five  years  of 
his  life.  He  was  now  rather  tall  for  his  age ;  his  mind  was  far  in 
advance  of  it.  Many  of  the  opinions  for  which  he  has  since  done 
battle,  were  distinctly  formed  during  that  important  period  of  his 
life  to  which  the  present  chapter  is  devoted. 

At  Westhaven,  Mr.  Greeley,  as  they  say  in  the  country, 
'  took  jobs ;'  and  the  jobs  which  he  took  were  of  various  kinds. 
He  would  contract  to  get  in  a  harvest,  to  prepare  the  ground 
for  a  new  one,  to  'tend'  a  saw-mill;  but  his  principal  employ 
ment  was  clearing  up  land;  that  is,  piling  up  and  burning  the  trees 
after  they  had  been  felled.  After  a  time  he  kept  sheep  and  cat 
tle.  In  most  of  his  undertakings  he  prospered.  By  incessant  labor 
and  by  reducing  his  expenditures  to  the  lowest  possible  point,  he 
saved  money,  slowly  but  continuously. 

In  whatever  he  engaged,  whether  it  was  haying,  harvesting, 
eawing,  or  land-clearing,  he  was  assisted  by  all  his  family.  There 
was  little  work  to  do  at  home,  and  after  breakfast,  the  house  was 
left  to  take  care  of  itself,  and  away  went  the  family,  father,  mother, 
boys,  girls,  and  oxen,  to  work  together.  Clearing  land  offers  an 
excellent  field  for  family  labor,  as  it  affords  work  adapted  to  all  de 
grees  of  strength.  The  father  chopped  the  larger  logs,  and  direct 
ed  the  labor  of  all  the  company.  Horace  drove  the  oxen,  and 
drove  them  none  too  well,  say  the  neighbors,  and  was  gradually 
supplanted  in  the  office  of  driver  by  his  younger  brother.  Both 
the  boys  could  chop  the  smaller  tree*.  Their  mother  and  sisters 


PRIMITIVE    COSTUME    OF    HORACE.  59 

fathered  together  the  light  wood  into  heaps.  And  Avhcn  the 
•Teat  logs  had  to  be  rolled  upon  one  another,  there  was  scope  for 
die  combined  skill  and  strength  of  the  whole  party.  Many  happy 
and  merry  days  the  family  spent  together  in  this  employment. 
The  mother's  spirit  never  flagged.  Her  voice  rose  in  song  and 
laughter  from  the  tangled  brush-wood  in  which  she  was  often  bur 
ied;  and  no  word,  discordant  or  unkind,  was  ever  known  to 
break  the  perfect  harmony,  to  interrupt  the  perfect  good  humor 
that  prevailed  in  the  family.  At  night,  they  went  home  to  the 
most  primitive  of  suppers,  and  partook  of  it  in  the  picturesque  and 
labor-saving  style  in  which  the  dinner  before  alluded  to  was  con 
sumed.  The  neighbors  still  point  out  a  tract  of  fifty  acres  which 
was  cleared  in  this  sportive  and  Swiss-Faraily-Kobinson-like  man 
ner.  They  show  the  spring  on  the  side  of  the  road  where  the  fam 
ily  used  to  stop  and  drink  on  their  way ;  and  they  show  a  hem 
lock-tree,  growing  from  the  rocks  above  the  spring,  which  used 
to  furnish  the  brooms,  weekly  renewed,  which  swept  the  little 
house  in  which  the  little  family  lived.  To  complete  the  picture, 
imagine  them  all  clad  in  the  same  material,  the  coarsest  kind  of 
linen  or  linsey-woolsey,  home-spun,  dyed  with  butternut  bark, 
and  the  different  garments  made  in  the  roughest  and  simplest  man 
ner  by  the  mother. 

More  than  three  garments  at  the  same  time,  Horace  seldom  wore  in 
the  summer^  and  these  were — a  straw  bat,  generally  in  a  state  of 
dilapidation,  a  tow-shirt,  never  buttoned,  a  pair  of  trousers  made  of 
the  family  material,  and  having  the  peculiarity  of  being  very  short 
in  both  legs,  but  shorter  in  one  than  the  other.  In  the  winter  he 
added  a  pair  of  shoes  am'  a  jacket.  During  the  five  years  of  his 
life' at  Westhaven,  probably  'na  clothes  did  not  cost  three  dollars  a 
year;  and,  I  believe,  that  duriu^  the  whole  period  of  his  childhood, 
up  to  the  time  when  he  came  ot  >ee,  not  fifty  dollars  in  all  were 
expended  upon  his  dress.  '  He  never  nanifested,  on  any  occasion,  in 
any  company,  nor  at  any  part  of  his  eai'v  life,  the  slightest  interest 
in  his  attire,  nor  the  least  care  for  its  effect  upon  others.  That 
amiable  trait  in  human  nature  which  inclines  us  to  decoration, 
which  make  us  desirous  to  present  an  agreeab'e  figure  to  others, 
ai.d  to  abhor  peculiarity  in  our  appearance,  is  a  trjjit  which  Horaco 
never  gave  the  smallest  evidence  of  possessing. 


60  AT   WESTHAVEN,    VERMONT. 

He  went  to  school  three  winters  in  "Westhaven,  but  not  to  anj 
great  advantage.  He  had  already  gone  the  round  of  district  schoo* 
studies,  and  did  little  more  after  his  tenth  year  than  walk  over  the 
course,  keeping  lengths  ahead  of  all  competitors,  with  little  effort 
"He  was  always,"  says  one  of  his  Westhaven  schoolmates,  "at 
the  top  of  the  school.  He  seldom  had  a  teacher  that  could  teach 
him  anything.  Once,  and  once  only,  he  missed  a  word.  His  fair 
face  was  crimsoned  in  an  instant.  He  was  terribly  cut  about  it,  and 
I  fancied  he  was  not  himself  for  a  week  after.  I  see  him  now,  as 
he  sat  in  class,  with  his  slender  body,  his  large  head,  his  open, 
ample  forehead,  his  pleasant  smile,  and  his  coarse,  clean,  homespun 
clothes.  His  attitude  was  always  the  same.  He  sat  with  his  arms 
loosely  folded,  his  head  bent  forward,  his  legs  crossed,  and  one  foot 
swinging.  He  did  not  seem  to  pay  attention,  but  nothing  escaped 
him.  He  appeared  to  attend  more  from  curiosity  to  hear  what  sort  of 
work  we  made  of  the  lesson  than  from  any  interest  he  took  in  the 
subject  for  his  own  sake.  Once,  I  parsed  a  word  egregiously  wrong, 
and  Horace  was  so  taken  aback  by  the  mistake  that  he  was  startled 
from  his  propriety,  and  exclaimed,  loud  enough  for  the  class  to  hear 
him,  '  What  a  fool !'  The  manner  of  it  was  so  ludicrous  that  I,  and 
all  the  class,  burst  into  laughter." 

Another  schoolmate  remembers  him  chiefly  for  his  gentle  manner 
and  obliging  disposition.  "  I  never,"  she  says,  "  knew  him  to  fight, 
or  to  be  angry,  or  to  have  an  enemy.  He  was  a  peacemaker  among 
us.  He  played  with  the  boys  sometimes,  and  I  think  was  fonder 
of  snowballing  than  any  other  game.  For  girls,  as  girls,  he  never 
manifested  any  preference.  On  one  occasion  he  got  into  a  scrape. 
He  had  broken  some  petty  rule  of  the  school,  and  was  required,  as 
a  punishment,  to  inflict  a  certain  number  of  blows  upon  another 
boy,  who  had,  I  think,  been  a  participator  in  the  offense.  The  in 
strument  of  flagellation  was  placed  in  Horace's  hand,  and  he  drew 
off,  as  though  he  was  going  to  deal  a  terrific  blow,  but  it  came 
down  so  gently  on  the  boy's  jacket  that  every  one  saw  that  Horace 
was  shamming.  The  teacher  interfered,  and  told  him  to  strike 
harder ;  and  a  little  harder  he  did  strike,  but  a  more  harmless  flog 
ging  was  never  administered.  He  seemed  not  to  have  the  power, 
any  more  than  the  will,  to  inflict  pain." 

If  Horace  got  little  good  himself  from  his  last  winters  at  school 


DISCONCERTS   HIS    TEACHERS.  61 

he  was  of  great  assistance  to  his  schoolfellows  in  explaining  to  them 
the  difficulties  of  their  lessons.  Few  evenings  passed  in  which 
some  strapping  fellow  did  not  come  to  the  house  with  his  grammar 
or  his  slate,  and  sit  demurely  by  the  side  of  Horace,  while  the  dis 
tracting  sum  was  explained,  or  the  dark  place  in.  the  parsing  les 
son  illuminated.  The  boy  delighted  to  render  such  assistance. 
However  deeply  he  might  be  absorbed  in  his  own  studies,  as  soon 
as  he  saw  a  puzzled  countenance  peering  in  at  the  door,  he  knew 
his  man,  knew  what  was  wanted ;  and  would  jump  up  from  hi? 
recumbent  posture  in  the  chimney-corner,  and  proceed,  with  a 
patience  that  is  still  gratefully  remembered,  with  a  perspicuity  that 
is  still  mentioned  with  admfration,  to  impart  the  information  re 
quired  of  him.  Fancy  it.  It  is  a  pretty  picture.  The  '  little  white- 
headed  fellow '  generally  so  abstracted,  now  all  intelligence  and  ani 
mation,  by  the  side  of  a  great  hulk  of  a  young  man,  twice  his  age 
and  three  times  his  weight,  with  a  countenance  expressing  perplex 
ity  and  despair.  An  apt  question,  a  reminding  word,  a  few  figures 
hastily  scratched  on  the  slate,  and  light  flashes  on  the  puzzled  mind. 
He  wonders  he  had  not  thought  of  that :  he  wishes  Heaven  had 
given  him  such  a  '  head-piece.' 

To  some  of  his  teachers  at  Westhaven,  Horace  was  a  cause  of 
great  annoyance.  He  knew  too  much.  He  asked  awkward  ques 
tions.  He  was  not  to  be  put  off  with  common-place  solutions  of 
serious  difficulties.  He  wanted  things  to  hang  together,  and  liked 
to  know  how,  if  this  was  true,  that  could  be  true  also.  At  length, 
one  of  his  teachers,  when  Horace  was  thirteen  years  old,  had  the 
honesty  and  good  sense  to  go  to  his  father,  and  say  to  him,  point 
blank,  that  Horace  knew  more  than  he  did,  and  it  was  of  no  use  for 
him  to  go  to  school  any  more.  So  Horace  remained  at  home,  read 
hard  all  that  winter  in  a  little  room  by  himself,  and  taught  his 
youngest  sister  beside.  He  had  attended  district  school,  altogether, 
about  forty-five  months. 

At  Westhaven,  the  pine-knots  blazed  on  the  hearth  as  brightly 
and  as  continuously  as  they  had  done  at  the  old  home  in  Amherst. 
There  was  a  new  reason  why  they  should ;  for  a  candle  was  a  lux 
ury  now,  too  expensive  to  be  indulged  in.  Horace's  home  was  a 
favorite  evening  resort  for  the  children  of  the  neighborhood — a  fact 
which  says  much  for  'the  kindly  spirit  of  its  inmates.  They  came 


62  AT   WESTHAVEN,  VERMONT. 

to  hear  his  mother's  songs  and  stories,  to  play  with  his  brother  and 
sisters,  to  get  assistance  from  himself;  and  they  liked  to  be  there, 
where  there  was  no  stiffness,  nor  ceremony,  nor  discord.  Horace 
cared  nothing  for  their  noise  and  romping,  but  he  could  never  be 
induced  to  join  in  an  active  game.  When  he  was  not  assisting 
some  bewildered  arithmetician,  he  lay  in  the  old  position,  on  his 
back  in  the  fireplace,  reading,  always  reading.  The  boys  would 
hide  his  book,  but  he  would  get  another.  They  would  pull  him  out 
of  his  fiery  den  by  the  leg ;  and  he  would  crawl  back,  without  the 
least  show  of  anger,  but  without  the  slightest  inclination  to  yield 
the  point. 

There  was  a  game,  however,  which  could  sometimes  tempt  him 
from  his  book,  and  of  which  he  gradually  became  excessively  fond. 
It  was  draughts,  or  *  checkers.'  In  that  game  he  acquired  extraor 
dinary  skill,  beating  everybody  in  the  neighborhood  ;  and  before  he 
had  reached  maturity,  there  were  few  draught-players  in  the  coun 
try — if  any — who  could  win  two  games  in  three  of  Horace  Greoley. 
His  cronies  at  Westhaven  seem  to  have  been  those  who  were  fond 
of  draughts.  In  his  passion  for  books,  he  was  alone  among  his 
companions,  who  attributed  his  continual  reading  more  to  indolence 
than  to  his  acknowledged  superiority  of  intelligence.  It  was  often 
predicted  that,  whoever  else  might  prosper,  Horace  never  would. 

And  yet,  he  gave  proof,  in  very  early  life,  that  the  Yankee  ele 
ment  was  strong  within  him.  In  the  first  place,  he  was  always  do 
ing  something;  and,  in  the  second,  he  always  had  something  to  sell. 
He  saved  nuts,  and  exchanged  them  at  the  store  for  the  articles  he 
wished  to  purchase.  He  would  hack  away,  hours  at  a  time,  at  a 
pitch-pine  stump,  the  roots  of  which  are  as  inflammable  as  pitch 
itself,  and,  tying  up  the  roots  in  little  bundles,  and  the  little  bundles 
into  one  large  one,  he  would  "  back"  the  load  to  the  store,  and  sell 
it  for  kindling  wood.  His  favorite  out-door  sport,  too,  at  "West- 
baven,  was  bee-hunting,  which  is  not  only  an  agreeable  and  excit 
ing  pastime,  but  occasionally  rewards  the  hunter  with  a  prodigious 
mass  of  honey — as  much  as  a  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  having  been 
frequently  obtained  from  a  single  tree.  This  was  profitable  sport, 
and  Horace  liked  it  amazingly.  His  share  of  the  honey  generally 
found  its  way  to  the  store.  By  these  and  other  expedients,  the  boy 
managed  always  to  have  a  little  money,  and  when  a  peddler  cauie 


TAKEN   FOR    AN   IDIOT.  63 

along  with  books  in  his  wagon,  Horace  was  pretty  sure  to  be  his 
customer.  Yet  he  was  only  half  a  Yankee.  He  could  earn  money, 
>ut  the  bargaining  faculty  he  had  not. 

What  did  he  read  ?  "Whatever  he  could  get.  But  his  preference 
was  for  history,  poetry,  and — newspapers.  He  had  read,  as  I  have 
before  mentioned,  the  whole  Bible  before  he  was  six  years  old. 
He  read  the  Arabian  Nights  with  intense  pleasure  in  his  eighth 
year  ;  Robinson  Crusoe  in  his  ninth  ;  Shakspeare  in  his  eleventh  ; 
in  his  twelfth,  thirteenth,  and  fourteenth  years,  he  read  a  good 
many  of  the  common,  superficial  histories — Robertson's,  Gold 
smith's,  and  others — and  as  many  tales  and  romances  as  he  could 
borrow.  At  Westhaven,  as  at  Amherst,  he  roamed  far  and  wide 
in  search  of  books.  He  was  fortunate,  too,  in  living  near  the 
*  mansion-house'  before  mentioned,  the  proprietor  of  which,  it  ap 
pears,  took  some  interest  in  Horace,  freely  lent  him  books,  and 
allowed  him  to  come  to  the  house  and  read  there  as  often  and  as 
long  as  he  chose. 

A  story  is  told  by  one  who  lived  at  the  '  mansion-house7  when 
Horace  used  to  read  there.  Horace  entered  the  library  one  day, 
when  the  master  of  the  house  happened  to  be  present,  in  conversa 
tion  with  a  stranger.  The  stranger,  struck  with  the  awkwardness 
and  singular  appearance  of  the  boy,  took  him  for  little  better  than 
an  idiot,  and  was  inclined  to  laugh  at  the  idea  of  lending  books  to 
'  such  a  fellow  as  ihat?  The  owner  of  the  mansion  defended  his 
conduct  by  extolling  the  intelligence  of  his  protege,  and  wound  up 
with  the  usual  climax,  that  he  should  "  not  be  surprised,  sir,  if  that 
boy  should  come  to  be  President  of  the  United  States."  People  in 
those  days  had  a  high  respect  for  the  presidential  office,  and  really 
believed — many  of  them  did — that  to  get  the  highest  place  it  was 
only  necessary  to  be  the  greatest  man.  Hence  it  was  a  very  com 
mon  mode  of  praising  a  boy,  to  make  the  safe  assertion  that  he 
might,  one  day,  if  he  persevered  in  well-doing,  be  the  President  of 
the  United  States.  That  was  before  the  era  of  wire-pulling  and 
rotation  in  office.  He  must  be  either  a  very  young  or  a  very  old 
Iran  who  can  now  mention  the.  presidential  office  in  connection 
with  the  future  of  any  boy  not  extraordinarily  vicious.  Wire-pull 
ing,  happily,  has  robbed  the  schoolmasters  of  one  of  their  bad  argu 
ments  for  a  virtuous  life.  But  we  are  wandering  from  the  library. 


64  AT   WESTHAVEN,  VERMONT. 

The  end  of  the  story  is,  that  the  stranger  looked  as  if  lie  thought 
Horace's  defender  half  mad  himself;  and,  "to  tell  the  truth,"  said 

the  lady  who  told  me  the  story,  "we  all  thought  Mr. had  made 

a  crazy  speech."  Horace  does  not  appear  to  have  made  a  favorable 
impression  at  the  '  mansion-house.' 

But  he  read  the  books  in  it,  for  all  that.  Perhaps  it  was  there, 
that  he  fell  in  with  a  copy  of  Mrs.  Hemans'  poems,  which,  wher 
ever  he  found  them,  were  the  first  poems  that  awakened  his  enthu 
siasm,  the  first  writings  that  made  him  aware  of  the  better  impulses 
of  his  nature.  "I  remember,"  he  wrote  in  the  Rose  of  Sharon  for 
1841,  "as  of  yesterday,  the  gradual  unfolding  of  the  exceeding 
truthfulness  and  beauty,  the  profound  heart-knowledge  (to  coin  a 
Germanism)  which  characterizes  Mrs.  Hemans'  poems,  upon  my 
own  immature,  unfolding  mind. — ' Cassabianca,'  'Things  that 
change,'  '  The  Voice  of  Spring,'  *  The  Traveler  at  the  Source  of 
the  Nile,'  4  The  Wreck,'  and  many  other  poems  of  kindred  nature 
are  enshrined  in  countless  hearts — especially  of  those  whose  intel 
lectual  existence  dates  its  commencement  between  1820  and  1830 — 
as  gems  of  priceless  value ;  as  spirit-wands,  by  whose  electric  touch 
they  were  first  made  conscious  of  the  diviner  aspirations,  the  loft 
ier,  holier  energies  within  them." 

Such  a  testimony  as  this  may  teach  the  reader,  if  he  needs  the 
lesson,  not  to  undervalue  the  authors  whom  his  fastidious  taste 
may  place  among  the  Lesser  Lights  of  Literature.  To  you,  fastid 
ious  reader,  those  authors  may  have  little  to  impart.  But  among 
the  hills  in  the  country,  where  the  feelings  are  fresher,  and  minds 
are  unsated  by  literary  sweets,  there  may  be  many  a  thoughtful  boy 
and  earnest  man,  to  whom  your  Lesser  Lights  are  Suns  that  warm, 
illumine,  and  quicken ! 

The  incidents  in  Horace's  life  at  Westhaven  were  few,  and  of  the 
few  that  did  occur,  several  have  doubtless  been  forgotten.  The 
people  there  remember  him  vividly  enough,  and  are  profuse  in  im 
parting  their  general  impressions  of  his  character;  but  the  facts 
which  gave  rise  to  those  impressions  have  mostly  escaped  their 
memories.  They  speak  of  him  as  an  absorbed  boy,  who  rarely 
saluted  or  saw  a  passer-by — who  would  walk  miles  at  the  road-side, 
following  the  zig-zag  of  the  fences,  without  once  looking  up — wh<D 
was  often  taken  by  strangers  for  a  natural  fool,  but  was  known  by 


A   WOLF    STORY.  6> 

his  intimates  to  be,  in  the  language  of  one  of  them — "  a  darned 
smart  fellow,  in  spite  of  his  looks  " — who  was  utterly  blameless  in 
all  his  ways,  and  works,  and  words — who  had  not,  and  could  not 
have  had,  an  enemy,  because  nature,  by  leaving  out  of  his  compo 
sition  the  diabolic  element,  had  made  it  impossible  for  him  to  be 
one.  The  few  occurrences  of  the  boy's  life,  which,  in  addition  to 
these  general  reminiscences  of  his  character,  have  chanced  to  escape 
oblivion,  may  as  well  be  narrated  here. 

As  an  instance  of  his  nervous  timidity,  a  lady  mentions,  that 
when  he  was  about  eleven  years  old,  he  came  to  her  house  one  even 
ing  on  some  errand,  and  staid  till  after  dark.  He  started  for  home, 
at  length,  but  had  not  been  gone  many  minutes  before  he  burst  into 
the  house  again,  in  great,  agitation,  saying  he  had  seen  a  wolf  by 
the  side  of  the  road.  .  There  had  been  rumors  of  wolves  in  the 
neighborhood.  Horace  declared  he  had  seen  the  eyes  of  one  glar 
ing  upon  him  as  he  passed,  and  he  was  so  overcome  with  terror, 
that  two  of  the  elder  girls  of  the  family  accompanied  him  home. 
They  saw  no  wolf,  nor  were  there  any  wolves  about  at  the  time ; 
the  mistake  probably  arose  from  some  phosphorescent  wood,  or 
some  other  bright  object.  A  Vermont  boy  of  that  period,  as  a  gen 
eral  thing,  cared  little  more  for  a  wolf  than  a  New  York  boy  does 
for  a  cat,  and  could  have  faced  a  pack  of  wolves  with  far  less  dread 
than  a  company  of  strangers.  Horace  was  never  abashed  by  an 
audience;  but  two  glaring  eye-balls  among  the  brush-wood  sent 
him  flying  with  terror. 

In  nothing  are  mortals  more  wise  than  in  their  fears.  That  which 
we  stigmatize  as  cowardice — what  is  it  but  nature's  kindly  warning 
to  her  children,  not  to  confront  what  they  cannot  master,  and  not 
to  undertake  what  their  strength  is  unequal  to  ?  Horace  was  a 
match  for  a  rustic  auditory,  and  he  feared  it  not.  He  was  not  a 
match  for  a  wild  beast ;  so  he  ran  away.  Considerate  nature ! 

Horace,  all  through  his  boyhood,  kept  his  object  of  becoming  a 
printer  steadily  in  view ;  and  soon  after  coining  to  Vermont,  about 
his  eleventh  year,  he  began  to  think  it  time  for  him  to  take  a  step 
towards  the  fulfillment  of  his  intention.  He  talked  to  his  father  on 
the  subject,  but  received  no  encouragement  from  him.  His  father 
said,  and  very  truly,  that  no  one  would  take  an  apprentice  so  young. 
But  the  boy  was  not  satisfied ;  and,  one  morning,  he  trudged  off  to 


66  AT   WESTIIAVEN,  VERMONT. 

Whitehall,  a  town  about  nine  miles  distant,  where  a  newspaper  was 
published,  to  make  inquiries.  He  went  to  the  printing  office,  saw 
the  printer,  and  learned  that  his  father  was  right.  He  was  too 
young,  the  printer  said ;  and  so  the  boy  trudged  home  again. 

A  few  months  after,  he  went  on  another  and  much  longer  pedes 
trian  expedition.  He  started,  with  seventy-five  cents  in  his  pocket 
and  a  small  bundle  of  provisions  on  a  stick  over  his  shoulder,  to 
walk  to  Londonderry,  a  hundred  and  twenty  miles  distant,  to  see 
Ins  old  friends  and  relatives.  He  performed  the  journey,  staid  sev- 
ral  weeks,  and  came  back  with  a  shilling  or  two  more  money  than 
he  took  with  him — owing,  we  may  infer,  to  the  amiable  way  aunts 
and  uncles  have  of  bestowing  small  coins  upon  nephews  who  visit 
them.  His  re-appearance  in  New  Hampshire  excited  unbounded 
astonishment,  his  age  and  dimensions  seeming  ludicrously  out  of 
proportion  to  the  length  and  manner  of  his  solitary  journey.  He 
was  made  much  of  during  his  stay,  and  his  journey  is  still  spoken 
of  there  as  a  wonderful  performance,  only  exceeded,  in  fact,  by 
Horace's  second  return  to  Londonderry  a  year  or  tvo  after,  when 
he  drove, over  the  same  ground,  his  aunt  and  her  four  children,  in 
a  'one-horse  wagon,'  and  drove  back  again,  without  the  slightest 
accident. 

As  a  set-off  to  these  marvels,  it  must  be  recorded,  that  on  two 
other  occasions  he  was  taken  for  an  idiot — once,  when  he  entered 
a  store,  in  one  of  the  brownest  of  his  brown  studies,  and  a  stranger 
inquired,  "What  darn  fool  is  that?" — and  a  second  time,  in  the 
manner  following.  He  was  accustomed  to  call  his  father  "  Sir? 
both  in  speaking  to,  and  speaking  of  him.  One  day,  while  Horace 
was  chopping  wood  by  the  side  of  the  road,  a  man  came  up  on 
horse-back  and  inquired  the  way  to  a  distant  town.  Horace  could 
not  tell  him,  and,  without  looking  up,  said,  "  ask  Sir?  meaning,  ask 
father.  The  stranger,  puzzled  at  this  reply,  repeated  his  question, 
and  Horace  again  said,  "ask  Sir.n  "I  am,  asking,"  shouted  the 
man.  "  Well,  ask  Sir?  said  Horace,  once  more.  "  Aint  I  asking, 
you — fool?"  screamed  the  man.  "  But  I  want  you  to  ask  Sir?  said 
Horace.  It  was  of  no  avail,  the  man  rode  away  in  disgust,  and 
inquired  at  the  next  tavern  "  who  that  tow-headed  fool  was  down 
the  road?" 

In  a  similar  absent  fit  it  must  have  been,  that  the  boy  once  at- 


YOKING    THE    OXEN.  67 

tempted,  in  vain,  to  yoke  the  oxen  that  he  had  yoked  a  hundred 
times  before  without  difficulty.  To  see  a  small  boy  yoking  a  pair 
of  oxen  is,  O  City  Reader,  to  behold  an  amazing  exhibition  of  the 
power  of  Mind  over  Matter.  The  huge  beasts  need  not  come  under 
the  yoke — twenty  men  could  not  compel  them — but  they  do  come 
under  it  at  tdie  beck  of  a  boy  that  can  just  stagger  under  the  yoke 
himself,  and  whom  one  of  the  oxen,  with  one  horn  and  a  shake  of 
the  head,  could  toss  over  a  hay-stack.  The  boy,  with  the  yoke  on 
his  shoulders,  and  one  of  the  '  bows '  in  his  hand,  marches  up  to 
the  '  off '  ox,  puts  the  bow  round  his  neck,  thrusts  the  ends  of  the 
bow  through  the  holes  of  the  yoke,  fastens  them  there— and  one 
ox  is  his.  But  the  other !  The  boy  then  removes  the  other  bow, 
holds  up  the  end  of  the  yoke,  and  commands  the  'near'  ox  to 
approach,  and  '  come  under  here,  sir.7  Wonderful  to  relate !  the 
near  ox  obeys !  He  walks  slowly  up,  and  takes  his  place  by  the 
side  of  his  brother,  as  though  it  were  a  pleasant  thing  to  pant  all 
day  before  the  plough,  and  he  was  only  too  happy  to  leave  the  dull 
pasture.  But  the  ox  is  a  creature  of  habit.  If  you  catch  the  near 
ox  first,  and  then  try  to  get  the  off  ox  to  come  under  the  near  side 
of  the  yoke,  you  will  discover  that  the  off  ox  has  an  opinion  of  his 
own.  He  won't  come.  This  was  the  mistake  which  Horace,  one 
morning  in  an  absent  fit,  committed,  and  the  off  ox  could  not  be 
brought  to  deviate  from  established  usage.  After  much  coaxing, 
and,  possibly,  some  vituperation,  Horace  was  about  to  give  it  up, 
when  his  brother  chanced  to  come  to  the  field,  who  saw  at  a  glance 
what  was  the  matter,  and  rectified  the  mistake.  "Ah  !"  his  father 
used  to  say,  after  Horace  had  made  a  display  of  this  kind,  "  that 
boy  will  never  get  along  in  this  world.  He  '11  never  know  more 
than  enough  to  come  in  when  it  rains." 

Another  little  story  is  told  of  the  brothers.  The  younger  was 
throwing  stones  at  a  pig  that  preferred  to  go  in  a  direction  exactly 
contrary  to  that  in  which  the  boys  wished  to  drive  him — a  com 
mon  case  with  pigs,  et  cetera.  Horace,  who  never  threw  stones  at 
pigs,  was  overheard  to  sa},  "Kow,  you  ought  n't  to  throw  stones 
at  that  hog ;  he  don't  know  anything." 

The  person  who  heard  these  words  uttered  by  the  boy,  is  one  of 
those bibulant  individuals  who,  in  the  rural  districts,  are  called  'old 
«K. \kers,'  and  his  f.,ce,  tobacco-stained,  and  rubicund  with  the 


68  AT    WESTHAVEN,  VERMONT. 

drinks  of  forty  years,  gleamed  with  the  light  of  other  days,  as  he 
hiccoughed  out  the  little  tale.  It  may  serve  to  show  how  the  hoy 
is  remembered  in  Westhaven,  if  I  add  a  word  or  two  respecting  my 
interview  with  this  man.  J  met  him  on  an  unfrequented  road ;  his 
hair  was  gray,  his  step  was  tottering ;  and  thinking  it  probable  he 
might  be  able  to  add  to  my  stock  of  reminiscences,  I  asked  him 
whether  he  remembered  Horace  Greeley.  He  mumbled  a  few 
words  in  reply  ;  but  I  perceived  that  he  was  far  gone  towards  in 
toxication,  and  soon  drove  on.  A  moment  after,  I  heard  a  voice  call 
ing  behind  me.  I  looked  round,  and  discovered  that  the  voice  was 
that  of  the  soaker,  who  was  shouting  for  me  to  stop.  I  alighted 
and  went  back  to  him.  And  now  that  the  idea  of  my  previous 
questions  had  had  time  to  imprint  itself  upon  his  half-torpid  brain, 
his  tongue  was  loosened,  and  he  entered  into  the  subject  with  an 
enthusiasm  that  seemed  for  a  time  to  burn  up  the  fumes  that  had 
stupefied  him.  He  was  full  of  his  theme ;  and,  besides  confirming 
much  that  I  had  already  heard,  added  the  story  related  above,  from 
his  own  recollection.  As  the  tribute  of  a  sot  to  the  champion  of 
the  Maine-Law,  the  old  man's  harangue  was  highly  interesting. 

That  part  of  the  town  of  Westhaven  was,  thirty  years  ago,  a 
desperate  place  for  drinking.  The  hamlet  in  which  the  family 
lived  longer  than  anywhere  else  in  the  neighborhood,  has  ceased  to 
exist,  and  it  decayed  principally  through  the  intemperance  of  its 
inhabitants.  Much  of  the  land  about  it  has  not  been  improved  in 
the  least  degree,  from  what  it  was  when  Horace  Greeley  helped  to 
clear  it ;  and  drink  has  absorbed  the  means  and  the  energy  which 
should  have  been  devoted  to  its  improvement.  A  boy  growing  up 
in  such  a  place  would  be  likely  to  become  either  a  drunkard  or  a 
tee-totaler,  according  to  his  organization ;  and  Horace  became  the 
latter.  It  is  rather  a  singular  fact,  that,  though  both  his  parents 
and  all  their  ancestors  were  accustomed  to  the  habitual  and  liberal 
use  of  intoxicating  liquors  and  tobacco,  neither  Horace  nor  his 
brother  could  ever  be  induced  to  partake  of  either.  They  had  a 
constitutional  aversion  to  the  taste  of  both,  long  before  they  under 
stood  the  nature  of  the  human  system  well  enough  to  know  that 
stimulants  of  all  kinds  are  necessarily  pernicious.  Horace  was 
therefore  a  tee-totaler  before  tee-totalisrn  came  up,  and  he  took  a 
sort  of  pledge  before  the  pledge  was  inverted.  It  happened  '>ne 


NARROW   ESCAPE    FROM    DROWNING.  69 

day  that  a  neighbor  stopped  to  take  dinner  with  the  family,  and, 
as  a  matter  of  course,  the  bottle  of  rum  was  brought  out  for  his 
entertainment.  Horace,  it  appears,  either  tasted  a  little,  or  else 
took  a  disgust  at  the  smell  of  the  stuff,  or  perhaps  was  offended  at 
the  effects  which  he  saw  it  produce.  An  idea  struck  him.  He 
said,  <l  Father,  what  will  you  give  me  if  I  do  not  drink  a  drop  of 
liquor  till  I  am  twenty -one  ?"  His  father,  who  took  the  question  as 
a  joke,  answered,  "Til  give  you  a  dollar."  "It's  a  bargain,"  said 
Horace.  And  it  was  a  bargain,  at  least  on  the  side  of  Horace,  who 
kept  his  pledge  inviolate,  though  I  have  no  reason  to  believe  he 
ever  received  his  dollar.  Many  were  the  attempts  made  by  his 
friends,  then  and  afterwards,  to  induce  him  to  break  his  resolution, 
and  on  one  occasion  they  tried  to  force  some  liquor  into  his  mouth. 
But  from  the  day  on  which  the  conversation  given  above  occurred, 
to  this  day,  he  has  not  knowingly  taken  into  his  system  any  alco 
holic  liquid. 

At  Westhaven,  Horace  incurred  the  second  peril  of  his  life.  He 
was  nearly  strangled  in  coming  into  the  world  ;  and,  in  his  thirteenth 
year,  he  was  nearly  strangled  out  of  it.  The  family  were  then 
living  on  the  banks  of  the  Hubbarton  river,  a  small  stream  which 
supplied  power  to  the  old  '  Tryon  Sawmill,1  which  the  father,  as 
sisted  by  his  boys,  conducted  for  a  year  or  two.  Across  the  river, 
where  it  was  widened  by  the  dam,  there  was  no  bridge,  and  people 
were  accustomed  to  get  over  on  a  floating  saw-log;  pushing  along 
the  log  by  means  of  a  pole.  The  boys  were  floating  about  in  the 
river  one  day,  when  the  log  on  which  the  younger  brother  was 
standing,  rolled  over,  and  in  went  the  boy,  over  head  and  ears, 
into  water  deep  enough  to  drown  a  giraffe.  He  rose  to  the  surface 
and  clung  to  the  bark  of  the  log,  but  was  unable  to  get  upon  it 
from  the  same  cause  as  that  which  had  prevented  his  standing  upon 
it — it  would  roll.  Horace  hastened  to  his  assistance.  He  got  upon 
the  log  to  which  his  brother  was  clinging,  lay  down  upon  it,  and 
put  down  a  hand  for  his  brother  to  grasp.  His  brother  did  grasp 
it,  and  pulled  with  so  much  vigor,  that  the  log  made  another  rev 
olution,  and  in  went  Horace.  Neither  of  the  boys  could  swim. 
They  clung  to  the  log  and  screamed  for  assistance ;  but  no  one  hap 
pened  to  be  near  enough  to  hear  them.  At  length,  the  younger  of 
the  drowning  pair  managed,  by  climbing  over  Horace,  and  sousing 


70  AT    WESTHAVEN,  VERMONT. 

him  completely  under  the  log,  to  get  out.  Horace  emerged,  half- 
drowned,  and  again  hung  for  life  at  the  rough  bark.  But  the  future 
hero  of  ten  thousand  paragraphs  was  not  to  be  drowned  in  a  mill- 
pond  ;  so  the  log  floated  into  shallower  water,  when,  by  making  a 
last,  spasmodic  effort,  he  succeeded  in  springing  up  high  enough  to 
get  safely  upon  its  broad  back.  It  was  a  narrow  escape  for  both  ; 
but  Horace,  with  all  his  reams  of  articles  forming  in  his  head,  came 
as  near  taking  a  summary  departure  to  that  bourn  where  no 
TRIBUNE  could  have  been  set  up,  as  a  boy  could,  and  yet  not  go. 
He  went  dripping  home,  and  recovered  from  the  effects  of  his  ad- 
"enture  in  due  time. 

This  was  Horace  Greeley's  first  experience  of  '  log-rolling.'  It 
was  not  calculated  to  make  him  like  it. 

One  of  the  first  subjects  which  the  boy  seriously  considered,  and 
perhaps  the  first  upon  which  he  arrived  at  a  decided  opinion,  was 
Religion.  And  this  was  the  more  remarkable  from  the  fact,  that 
his  education  at  home  was  not  of  a  nature  to  direct  his  attention 
strongly  to  the  subject.  Both  of  his  parents  assented  to  the  Ortho 
dox  creed  of  New  England ;  his  father  inherited  a  preference  for 
the  Baptist  denomination ;  his  mother  a  leaning  to  the  Presbyter 
ian.  But  neither  were  members  of  a  church,  rind  neither  were  par 
ticularly  devout.  The  father,  however,  wa.s  somewhat  strict  in 
certain  observances.  He  would  not  allow  novels  and  plays  to  be 
read  in  the  house  on  Sundays,  nor  an  heretical  book  at  any  time. 
The  family,  when  they  lived  near  a  church,  attended  it  with  con 
siderable  regularity — Horace  among  the  rest.  Sometimes  the  father 
would  require  the  children  to  read  a  certain  number  of  chapters  in 
the  Bible  on  Sunday.  And  if  the  mother— as  mothers  are  apt  to 
be — was  a  little  less  scrupulous  upon  such  points,  and  occasionally 
winked  at  Sunday  novel-reading,  it  certainly  did  not  arise  from  any 
set  disapproval  of  her  husband's  strictness.  It  was  merely  that  she 
was  the  mother,  he  the  father,  of  the  family.  The  religious  educa 
tion  of  Horace  was,  in  short,  of  a  nature  to  leave  his  mind,  not  un 
biased  in  favor  of  orthodoxy — that  had  been  almost  impossible  in 
New  England  thirty  years  ago — but  as  nearly  in  equilibrium  on  the 
subject,  in  a  state  as  favorable  to  original  inquiry,  as  the  place  and 
circumstances  of  his  early  life  rendered  possible. 

There  was  not  in  Westhaven  one  individual  who  wav  knowr  to 


THE    STORY    OF   DEMETRIUS.  71 

be  a  dissenter  from  the  established  faith ;  nor  was  there  any  dis 
senting  sect  or  society  in  the  vicinity ;  nor  was  any  periodical  of  a 
heterodox  character  taken  in  the  neighborhood;  nor  did  any  heret 
ical  works  fall  in  the  boy's  way  till  years  after  his  religious  opinions 
were  settled.  Yet,  from  the  age  of  twelve  he  began  to  doubt; 
and  at  fourteen — to  use  the  pathetic  language  of  one  who  knew 
him  then — "  he  was  little  better  than  a  Universal ist." 

The  theology  of  the  seminary  and  the  theology  of  the  farm-house 
are  two  different  things.  They  are  as  unlike  as  the  discussion  of  the 
capital  punishment  question  in  a  debating  society  is  to  the  dis 
cussion  of  the  same  question  among  a  company  of  criminals  ac 
cused  of  murder.  The  unsophisticated,  rural  mind  meddles  not 
with  the  metaphysics  of  divinity;  it  takes  little  interest  in  the 
Foreknowledge  and  Free-will  difficulty,  in  the  Election  and  Respon 
sibility  problem,  and  the  manifold  subtleties  connected  therewith. 
It  grapples  with  a  simpler  question: — '  Am  I  in  danger  of  being 
damned?'  '  Is  it  likely  that  I  shall  go  to  hell,  and  be  tormented  with 
burning  sulphur,  and  the  proximity  of  a  serpent,  forever,  and  ever, 
and  ever?'  To  minds  of  an  ampler  and  more  generous  nature,  the 
same  question  presents  itself,  but  in  another  form  : — Is  it  a  fact  that 
nearly  every  individual  of  the  human  family  will  forever  fail  of  at 
taining  the  WELFARE  of  which  he  was  created  capable,  and  be  '  lostj 
beyond  the  hope,  beyond  the  possibility  of  recovery  ?'  Upon  the 
latter  form  of  the  inquiry,  Horace  meditated  much,  and  talked 
often  during  his  thirteenth  and  fourteenth  years.  When  his  com 
panions  urged  the  orthodox  side,  he  would  rather  object,  but  mildly, 
and  say  with  a  puzzled  look,  u  It  don't  seem  consistent." 

While  he  was  in  the  habit  of  revolving  such  thoughts  in  his  mind, 
a  circumstance  occurred  which  accelerated  his  progress  towards  a 
rejection  of  the  damnation  dogma.  It  was  nothing  more  than  his 
chance  reading  in  a  school-book  of  the  history  of  Demetrius  Polior- 
cetes.  The  part  of  the  story  which  bore  upon  the  subject  of  his 
thoughts  may  be  out-lined  thus : — 

Demetrius,  (B.  0.  301,)  surnamed  Poliorcetes,  "besieger  of  cities, 
was  the  son  of  Antigorus,  one  of  those  generals  whom  the  death 
of  Alexander  the  Great  left  masters  of  the  world.  Demetrius  was 
one  of  the  *  fast '  princes  of  antiquity,  a  handsome,  brave,  ingen- 


72  AT   WE&THAVEN,  VERMONT. 

ious  man,  but  vain,  rash  and  dissolute.  He  and  his  father  ruled 
dver  Asia  Minor  and  Syria.  Greece  was  under  the  sway  of  Cassander 
and  Ptolemy,  who  had  re-established  in  Athens  aristocratic  institu 
tions,  and  held  the  Athenians  in  servitude.  Demetrius,  who  aspired 
to  the  glory  of  succoring  the  distressed,  and  was  not  averse  to  re 
ducing  the  power  of  his  enemies,  Cassander  and  Ptolemy,  sailed 
to  Athens  with  a  fleet  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  ships,  expelled  the 
garrison  and  obtained  possession  of  the  city.  Antigonus  had  been 
advised  to  retain  possession  of  Athens,  the  key  of  Greece ;  but  he 
replied: — "The  best  and  securest  of  all  keys  is  the  friendship  of 
the  people,  and  Athens  was  the  watch-tower  of  the  world,  from 
whence  the  torch  of  his  glory  would  blaze  over  the  earth."  Ani 
mated  by  such  sentiments,  his  son,  Demetrius,  on  reaching  the  city, 
had  proclaimed  that  "his  father,  in  a  happy  hour,  he  hoped,  for 
Athens,  had  sent  him  to  re-instate  them  in  their  liberties,  and  to  re 
store  their  laws  and  ancient  form  of  government."  The  Athen 
ians  received  him  with  acclamations.  He  performed  all  that  he 
promised,  and  more.  He  gave  the  people  a  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  measures  of  meal,  and  timber  enough  to  build  a  hundred 
galleys.  The  gratitude  of  the  Athenians  was  boundless.  They  be 
stowed  upon  Demetrius  the  title  of  king  and  god-protector.  They 
erected  an  altar  upon  the  spot  where  he  had  first  alighted  from  his 
chariot.  They  created  a  priest  in  his  honor,  and  decreed  that  he 
should  be  recei^d  in  all  his  future  visits  as  a  god.  They  changed 
the  name  of  the  month  Munychion  to  Demetrion,  called  the  last 
day  of  every  m<  nth  Demetrius,  and  the  fea&ts  of  Bacchus  Demetria. 
"  The  gods,"  says  the  good  Plutarch,  "  soon  showed  how  much  of 
fended  they  were  at  these  things."  Demetrius  enjoyed  these  ex 
travagant  honors  for  a  time,  addod  an  Athenian  wife  to  the  number 
he  already  possessed,  and  sailed  away  to  prosecute  the  war.  A  sec 
ond  time  the  Athenians  were  threatened  with  the  yoke  of  Cassander ; 
again  Demetrius,  with  ft  fleet  of  three  hundred  and  thirty  ships, 
came  to  their  deliverance,  and  again  the  citizens  taxed  their  ingenu 
ity  to  the  ntmost  in  devising  for  their  deliverer  new  honors  and  more 
piquant  pleasures.  At  length  Demetrius,  after  a  career  of  victory, 
fell  into  misfortune.  His  domains  were  invaded,  his  father  was 
slain,  the  kingdom  was  dismembered,  and  Demetrius,  with  a  rem 
nant  of  his  army,  was  obliged  to  fly.  Reaching  Ephesus  in  want  of 


THE    STORY   OF   DEMETRIUS.  73 

money,  he  spared  the  temple  filled  with  treasure  ;  and  fearing  his 
soldiers  would  plunder  it,  left  the  place  and  embarked  for  Greece. 
His  dependence  was  upon  the  Athenians,  with  whom  he  had  left  his 
wife,  his  ships,  and  his  money.  Confidently  relying  upon  their  af 
fection  and  gratitude,  he  pursued  his  voyage  with  all  possible  ex 
pedition  as  to  a  secure  asylum.  But  theficTcle  Athenians  failed  him 
in  his  day  of  need  !  At  the  Cyclades,  Athenian  ambassadors  met 
him,  and  mocked  him  with  the  entreaty  that  he  would  by  no  means 
go  to  Athens,  as  the  people  had  declared  by  an  edict,  that  they 
would  receive  no  king  into  the  city ;  and  as  for  his  wife,  he  could 
find  her  at  Megare,  whither  she  had  been  conducted  with  the  re 
spect  due  to  her  rank.  Demetrius,  who  up  to  that  moment  had 
borne  his  reverses  with  calmness,  was  cut  to  the  heart,  and  over 
come  by  mingled  disgust  and  rage.  He  was  not  in  a  condition  to 
avenge  the  wrong.  He  expostulated  with  the  Athenians  in  mod 
erate  terms,  and  waited  only  to  be  joined  by  his  galleys,  and  turned 
his  back  upon  the  ungrateful  country.  Time  passed.  Demetrius 
again  became  powerful.  Athens  was  rent  by  factions.  Availing 
himself  of  the  occasion,  the  injured  king  sailed  with  a  consider 
able  fleet  to  Attica,  landed  his  forces  and  invested  the  city,  which 
was  soon  reduced  to  such  extremity  of  famine  that  a  father  and 
son,  it  is  related,  fought  for  the  possession  of  a  dead  mouse  that 
happened  to  fall  from  the  ceiling  of  the  room  in  which  they  were 
sitting.  The  Athenians  were  compelled,  at  length,  to  open  their 
gates  to  Demetrius,  who  inarched  in  with  his  troops.  He  com 
manded  all  the  citizens  to  assemble  in  the  theater.  They  obeyed. 
Utterly  at  his  mercy,  they  expected  no  mercy,  felt  that  they  deserved 
no  mercy.  The  theater  was  surrounded  with  armed  men,  and  on 
each  side  of  the  stage  was  stationed  a  body  of  the  king's  own 
guards.  Demetrius  entered  by  the  tragedian's  passage,  advanced 
across  the  stage,  and  confronted  the  assembled  citizens,  who  await 
ed  in  terror  to  hear  the  signal  for  their  slaughter.  But  no  such 
ygnal  was  heard.  He  addressed  them  in  a  soft  and  persuasive 
one,  complained  of  their  conduct  in  gentle  terms,  forgave  their  in 
gratitude,  took  them  again  into  favor,  gave  the  city  a  hundred  thou 
sand  measures  of  wheat,  and  promised  the  re-establishment  of  their 
ancient  institutions.  The  people,  relieved  from  their  terror,  aston 
ished  at  their  good  fortune,  and  filled  with  enthusiasm  at  such 

4 


74  AT   WESTHAYEN,  VERMONT. 

generous    forbearance,    overwhelmed    Demetrius    with    acclama 
tions. 

Horace  was  fascinated  by  the  story.  He  thought  the  conduct  of 
Demetrius  not  only  magnanimous  and  humane,  but  just  and  politic. 
Sparing  the  people,  misguided  by  their  leaders,  seemed  to  him  the 
best  way  to  make  them  ashamed  of  their  ingratitude,  and  the  best 
way  of  preventing  its  recurrence.  And  he  argued,  if  mercy  is  best 
and  wisest  on  a  small  scale,  can  it  be  less  so  on  a  large  ?  If  a  man 
is  capable  of  such  lofty  magnanimity,  may  not  God  be  who  made 
man  capable  of  it?  If,  in  a  human  being,  revenge  and  jealousy  are 
despicable,  petty  and  vulgar,  what  impiety  is  it  to  attribute  such 
feelings  to  the  beneficent  Father  of  the  Universe?  The  sin  of  the 
Athenians  against  Demetrius  had  every  element  of  enormity. 
Twice  he  had  snatched  them  from  the  jaws  of  ruin.  Twice  he 
had  supplied  their  dire  necessity.  Twice  he  had  refused  all  reward 
except  the  empty  honors  they  paid  to  his  name  and  person.  He 
had  condescended  to  become  one  of  them  by  taking  a  daughter  of 
Athens  as  his  wife.  He  had  entrusted  his  wife,  his  ships  and  his 
treasure  to  their  care.  Yet  in  the  day  of  his  calamity,  when  for 
the  first  time  it  was  in  their  power  to  render  him  a  service,  when 
lie  was  coming  to  them  with  the  remnant  of  his  fortune,  without  a 
doubt  of  their  fidelity,  with  every  reason  to  suppose  that  his  mis 
fortunes  would  render  him  dearer  to  them  than  ever ;  then  it  was 
that  they  determined  to  refuse  him  even  an  admittance  within  their 
gates,  and  sent  an  embassy  to  meet  him  with  mockery  aud  sub 
terfuge. 

Of  the  offenses  committed  by  man  against  man,  there  is  one 
which  man  can  seldom  lift  his  soul  up  to  the  height  of  forgiving. 
It  is  to  be  slighted  in  the  day  of  his  humiliation  by  those  who 
showed  him  honor  in  the  time  of  his  prosperity.  Yet  man  can 
forgive  even  this.  Demetrius  forgave  it;  and  the  nobler  and 
greater  a  man  is,  the  less  keen  is  his  sense  of  personal  wrong,  the 
less  difficult  it  is  for  him  to  forgive.  The  poodle  must  show  his 
teeth  at  every  passing  dog ;  the  mastiff  walks  majestic  and  serene 
through  a  pack  of  snarling  curs. 

Amid  such  thoughts  as  these,  the  orthodox  theory  of  damnation 
Imd  little  chance;  the  mind  of  the  boy  revolted  against  it  more  and 


BECOMES   A    UNIVERSALIST.  75 

more;  and  the  result  was,  that  he  became  as  our  pious  friend 
lamented,  "little  better  than  a  Umversalist"— in  fact  no  better. 
From  the  age  of  fourteen  he  was  known  wherever  he  lived  as  a 
champion  of  Universalism,  though  he  never  entered  a  Universalist 
church  till  he  was  twenty  years  old.  By  what  means  he  managed 
to  *  reconcile'  his  new  belief  with  the  explicit  and  unmistakable 
declarations  of  what  he  continued  to  regard  as  Holy  Writ,  or  how 
anybody  has  ever  done  it,  I  do  not  know.  The  boy  appears  to  have 
shed  his  orthodoxy  easily.  His  was  not  a  nature  to  travail  with  a 
new  idea  for  months  and  years,  and  arrive  at  certainty  only  after  a 
struggle  that  rends  the  soul,  and  leaves  it  sore  and  sick  for  life.  He 
was  young ;  the  iron  of  our  theological  system  had  not  entered  into 
his  soul ;  he  took  the  matter  somewhat  lightly  ;  and,  having  arrived 
at  a  theory  of  the  Divine  government,  which  accorded  with  his  own 
gentle  and  forgiving  nature,  he  let  the  rest  of  the  theological  science 
alone,  and  went  on  his  way  rejoicing. 

Yet  it  was  no  slight  thing  that  had  happened  to  him.  A  man's 
Faith  is  the  man.  Not  to  have  a  Faith  is  not  to  be  a  man.  Beyond 
all  comparison,  the  most  important  fact  of  a  man's  life  is  the  forma 
tion  of  the  Faith  which  he  adheres  to  and  lives  by.  And  though 
Horace  Greeley  has  occupied  himself  little  with  tilings  spiritual, 
confining  himself,  by  a  necessity  of  his  nature,  chiefly  to  the  pro 
motion  of  material  interests,  yet  I  doubt  not  that  this  early  change 
in  his  religious  belief  was  the  event  which  gave  to  all  his  subse 
quent  life  its  direction  and  character.  "Whether  that  change  was  a 
desirable  one,  or  an  undesirable,  is  a  question  upon  which  the  reader 
of  course  has  a  decided  opinion.  The  following,  perhaps,  may  be 
taken  as  the  leading  consequences  of  a  deliberate  and  intelligent  ex 
change  of  a  severe  creed  in  which  a  person  has  been  educated,  foi 
a  less  severe  one  to  which  he  attains  by  the  operations  of  his  own 
mind : 

It  quickens  his  understanding,  and  multiplies  his  ideas  to  an  extent 
which,  it  is  said,  no  one  who  has  never  experienced  it  can  possibly 
conceive.  It  induces  in  him  a  habit  of  original  reflection  upon  sub 
jects  of  importance.  It  makes  him  slow  to  believe  a  thing,  merely 
because  many  believe  it — merely  because  it  has  long  been  believed. 
It  renders  him  open  to  conviction,  for  he  cannot  forget  that  there 
was  a  time  when  he  held  opinions  which  he  now  cle'arly  sees  to  be 


76  AT    WESTHAVEN,  VERMONT. 

erroneous,  It  dissolves  the  spell  of  Authority ;  it  makes  him  dis 
trustful  of  Great  Names.  It  lessens  his  terror  of  Public  Opinion ; 
for  he  has  confronted  it — discovered  that  it  shows  more  teeth  than 
it  uses — that  it  harms  only  those  who  fear  it — that  it  hows  at  length 
in  homage  to  him  whom  it  cannot  frighten.  It  throws  him  upon 
his  own  moral  resources.  Formerly,  Fear  came  to  his  assistance  in 
moments  of  temptation  ;  hell-fire  rolled  up  its  column  of  lurid  smoke 
before  him  in  the  dreaded  distance.  But  now  he  sees  it  not.  If  he 
has  the  Intelligence  to  know,  the  Heart  to  love,  the  Will  to  choose, 
the  Strength  to  do,  the  RIGHT  ;  he  does  it,  and  his  life  is  high,  and 
pure,  and  noble.  If  Intelligence,  or  Heart,  or  Will,  or  Strength  is 
wanting  to  him,  he  vacillates  ;  he  is  not  an  integer,  his  life  is  not. 
But,  in  either  case,  his  Acts  are  the  measure  of  his  Worth. 

Moreover,  the  struggle  of  a  heretic  with  the  practical  difficulties 
of  life,  and  particularly  his  early  struggle,  is  apt  to  he  a  hard  one; 
for,  generally,  the  Rich,  the  Respectable,  the  Talented,  and  the 
Virtuous  of  a  nation  are  ranged  on  the  side  of  its  Orthodoxy  in  an 
overwhelming  majority.  They  feel  themselves  allied  with  it — de 
pendent  upon  it.  Above  all,  they  believe  in  it,  and  think  they 
would  be  damned  if  they  did  not.  They  are  slow  to  give  their 
countenance  to  one  who  dissents  from  their  creed,  even  though  he 
aspire  only  to  make  their  shoes,  or  clean  them,  and  though  they 
more  than  suspect  that  the  rival  shoemaker  round  the  corner  keeps 
a  religious  newspaper  on  his  counter  solely  for  the  effect  of  the 
thing  upon  pious  consumers  of  shoe-leather. 

To  depart  from  the  established  Faith,  then,  must  be  accounted  a 
risk,  a  danger,  a  thing  uncomfortable  and  complicating.  But,  from 
the  nettle  Danger,  alone,  we  pluck  the  flower  Safety.  And  he  who 
loves  Truth  first — Advantage  second— will  certainly  find  Truth  at 
length,  and  care  little  at  what  loss  of  Advantage.  So,  let  every 
man  be  fully  persuaded  in  his  own  mind — with  which  safe  and 
salutary  text  we  may  take  leave  of  matters  theological,  and  resume 
our  story. 

The  political  events  which  occurred  during  Horace  Greeley's 
residence  in  Westhaven  were  numerous  and  exciting;  some  of 
them  were  of  a  character  to  attract  the  attention  of  a  far  less  for 
ward  and  thoughtful  boy  than  he.  Doubtless  he  read  the  message 
of  President  Monroe  in  1821,  in  which  the  policy  of  Protection 


DISCOVERS   THE    HUMBUG    OF    "  DEMOCRACY."  77 

to  American  Industry  was  recommended  strongly,  and  advocated 
by  arguments  so  simple  that  a  child  could  understand  them;  so 
cogent  that  no  man  could  refute  them — arguments,  in  fact,  pre 
cisely  similar  to  those  which  the  Tribune  has  since  made  familiar 
to  the  country.  In  the  message  of  1822,  the  president  repeated  his 
recommendation,  and  again  in  that  of  1824.  Those  were  the  years 
of  the  recognition  of  the  South  American  Republics,  of  the  Greek 
enthusiasm,  of  Lafayette's  triumphal  progress  through  the  Union  ; 
of  the  occupation  of  Oregon,  of  the  suppression  of  Piracy  in  the 
Gulf  of  Mexico ;  of  the  Clay,  Adams  and  Jackson  controversy.  It 
was  during  the  period  we  are  now  considering,  that  Henry  Clay 
made  his  most  brilliant  efforts  in  debate,  and  secured  a  place  in  the 
affections  of  Horace  Greeley,  which  he  retained  to  his  dying  day. 
It  was  then,  too,  that  the  boy  learned  to  distrust  the  party  who 
claimed  to  be  pre-eminently  and  exclusively  Democratic. 

How  attentively  he  watched  the  course  of  political  events,  how 
intelligently  he  judged  them,  at  the  age  of  thirteen,  may  be  inferred 
from  a  passage  in  an  article  which  he  wrote  twenty  years  after,  the 
facts  of  which  he  stated  from  his  early  recollection  of  them : 

"  The  first  political  contest,"  he  wrote  in  the  TRIBUNE  for  August  29th, 
1846,  "  in  which  we  ever  took  a  distinct  interest  will  serve  to  illustrate  this  dis 
tinction  [between  real  and  sham  democracy].  It  was  the  Presidential  Election 
of  1824.  Five  candidates  for  President  were  offered,  but  one  of  them  was 
withdrawn,  leaving  four,  all  of  them  members  in  regular  standing  of  the  so- 
called  Republican  or  Democratic  party.  But  a  'caucus  of  one-fourth  of  the 
members  of  Congress  had  selected  one  of  the  four  (William  H.  Crawford)  as 
the  Republican  candidate,  and  it  was  attempted  to  make  the  support  of  this  one 
a  test  of  party  orthodoxy  and  fealty.  This  was  resisted,  we  think  most  justly 
and  democratically,  by  three-fourths  of  the  people,  including  a  large  major 
ity  of  those  of  this  State.  But  among  the  prime  movers  of  the  caucus  wires 
was  Martin  Van  Buren  of  this  State,  and  here  it  was  gravely  proclaimed  and 
insisted  that  Democracy  required  a  blind  support  of  Crawford  in  preference  to 
Adams,  Jackson,  or  Clay,  all  of  the  Democratic  party,  who  were  competitors 
for  the  station.  A  Legislature  was  chosen  as  '  Republican'  before  the  people 
generally  had  begun  to  think  of  the  Presidency,  and,  this  Legislature,  it  was 
undoubtingly  expected,  would  choose  Crawford  Electors  of  President.  But  the 
friends  of  the  rival  candidates  at  length  began  to  bestir  themselves  and  de 
mand  that  the  New  York  Electors  shouM  be  chosen  by  a  direct  vote  of  the  peo 
ple,  and  not  by  a  forestalled  Legislature  This  demand  was  vehemently  re- 


78  AT   WESTHAVEN,  VERMONT. 

Bisted  by  Martin  Van  Buren  and  those  who  followed  his  lead,  including  the 
leading  '  Democratic'  politicians  and  editors  ol  the  State,  the  c  Albany  Argus,' 
'  Noah's  Enquirer,  or  National  Advocate,'  &o.  &c.  The  feeling  in  favor  of  an 
Election  by  the  people  became  so  strong  and  general  that  Gov.  Yates,  though 
himself  a  Crawford  man,  was  impelled  to  call  a  special  session  of  the  Legisla 
ture  for  this  express  purpose.  The  Assembly  passed  a  bill  giving  the  choice 
to  the  people  by  an  overwhelming  majority,  in  defiance  of  the  exertions  of 
Van  Buren,  A.  C.  Flagg,  Ac.  The  bill  went  to  the  Senate,  to  which  body  Silas 
Wright  had  recently  been  elected  from  the  Northern  District,  and  elected  by 
Clintonian  votes  on  an  explicit  understanding  that  he  would  vote  for  giving 
the  choice  of  the  Electors  to  the  people.  He  accordingly  voted,  on  one  or  two 
abstract  propositions,  that  the  choice  ought  to  be  given  to  the  people.  But 
when  it  came  to  a  direct  vote,  this  same  Silas  Wright,  now  Governor,  voted  to 
deprive  the  people  of  that  privilege,  by  postponing  the  whole  subject  to  the 
next  regular  session  of  the  Legislature,  when  it  would  be  too  late  for  the  peo 
ple  to  choose  Electors  for  that  time.  A  bare  majority  (17)  of  the  Senators 
thus  withheld  from  the  people  the  right  they  demanded.  The  cabal  failed  in 
their  great  object,  after  all,  for  several  members  of  the  Legislature,  elected  as 
Democrats,  took  ground  for  Mr.  Clay,  and  by  uniting  with  the  friends  of  Mr. 
Adams  defeated  most  of  the  Crawford  Electors,  and  Crawford  lost  the  Presi 
dency.  We  were  but  thirteen  when  this  took  place,  but  we  looked  on  very 
earnestly,  without  prejudice,  and  tried  to  look  beyond  the  mere  names  by 
which  the  contending  parties  were  called.-  Could  we  doubt  that  Democracy 
was  on  one  side  and  the  Democratic  party  on  the  other  1  Will '  Democrat' 
attempt  to  gainsay  it  now  ? 

"  Mr.  Adams  was  chosen  President — as  thorough  a  Democrat,  in  the  true 
sense  of  the  word,  as  ever  lived — a  plain,  unassuming,  upright,  and  most  ca 
pable  statesman.  He  managed  the  public  affairs  so  well  that  nobody  could 
really  give  a  reason  for  opposing  him,  and  hardly  any  two  gave  the  same  rea 
son.  There  was  no  party  conflict  during  his  time  respecting  the  Bank,  Tariff, 
Internal  Improvements,  nor  anything  else  of  a  substantial  character.  He 
kept  the  expenses  of  the  government  very  moderate.  He  never  turned  a  man 
out  of  office  because  of  a  difference  of  political  sentiment.  Yet  it  was  deter 
mined  at  the  outset  that  he  should  be  put  down,  no  matter  how  well  he  might 
administer  the  government,  and  a  combination  of  the  old  Jackson,  Crawford, 
and  Calhoun  parties,  with  the  personal  adherents  of  De  Witt  Clinton,  aided  by 
a  shamefully  false  and  preposterous  outcry  that  he  had  obtained  the  Presi 
dency  by  a  bargain  with  Mr.  Clay,  succeeded  in  returning  an  Opposition  Con 
gress  in  the  middle  of  his  term,  and  at  its  close  to  put  hi  General  Jackson  over 
him  by  a  large  majority. 

"Thecharacter  of  this  man  Jackson  we  had  studied  pretty  thoroughly  and 
without  prejudice.  His  fatal  duel  with  Dickinson  about  a  horse-race ;  his  pis 
toling  Colonel  Benton  in  the  streets  of  Nashville ;  his  forcing  his  iray  through 


SHAM    AND   REAL   DEMOCRACY.  79 

the  Indian  country  with  his  drove  of  negroes  in  defiance  of  the  express  order 
of  the  Agent  Dinsmore  ;  his  imprisonment  of  Judge  Hall  at  New  Orleans, 
long  after  the  British  had  left  that  quarter,  and  when  martial  law  ought  long 
since  to  have  been  set  aside ;  his  irruption  into  Florida  and  capture  of  Spanish 
posts  and  officers  without  a  shadow  of  authority  to  do  so ;  his  threats  to  cut 
off  the  ears  of  Senators  who  censured  this  conduct  in  solemn  debate — in  short, 
his  whole  life  convinced  us  that  the  man  never  was  a  Democrat,  in  any  proper 
sense  of  the  term,  but  a  violent  and  lawless  despot,  after  the  pattern  of  Caesar, 
Cromwell,  and  Napoleon,  and  unfit  to  be  trusted  with  power  Of  course,  we 
went  against  him,  but  not  against  anything  really  Democratic  in  him  or  his 
party. 

"  That  General  Jackson  in  power  justified  all  our  previous  expectations  of  him, 
need  hardly  be  said.  That  he  did  more  to  destroy  the  Republican  character 
of  our  government  and  render  it  a  centralized  despotism,  than  any  other 
man  could  do,  we  certainly  believe.  But  our  correspondent  and  we  would 
probably  disagree  with  regard  to  the  Bank  and  other  questions  which  con 
vulsed  the  Union  during  his  rule,  and  we  will  only  ask  his  attention  to  one 
of  them,  the  earliest,  and,  in  our  view,  the  most  significant. 

"  The  Cherokee  Indians  owned,  and  had  ever  occupied,  an  extensive  tract  of 
country  lying  within  the  geographical  limits  of  Georgia,  Alabama,  &c.  It  was 
theirs  by  the  best  possible  title — theirs  by  our  solemn  and  reiterated  Treaty 
stipulations.  We  had  repeatedly  bought  from  them  slices  of  their  lands, 
solemnly  guarantying  to  them  all  that  we  did  not  buy,  and  agreeing  to  de 
fend  them  therein  against  all  aggressors.  We  had  promised  to  keep  all  intrud 
ers  out  of  their  territory.  At  least  one  of  these  Treaties  was  signed  by  Gen. 
Jackson  himself;  others  by  Washington,  Jefferson,  Ac.  All  the  usual  pre 
texts  for  agression  upon  Indians  failed  in  this  ease.  The  Cherokees  had  been 
our  friends  and  allies  for  many  years  ;  they  had  committed  no  depredations  ; 
they  were  peaceful,  industrious,  in  good  part  Christianized,  had  a  newspaper 
printed  in  their  own  tongue,  and  were  fast  improving  in  the  knowledge  and 
application  of  the  arts  of  civilized  life.  They  compared  favorably  every  way 
with  their  white  neighbors.  But  the  Georgians  coveted  their  fertile  lands, 
and  determined  to  have  them ;  they  set  them  up  in  a  lottery  and  gambled 
them  off  among  themselves,  and  resolved  to  take  possession.  A  fraudulent 
Treaty  was  made  between  a  few  Cherokees  of  no  authority  or  consideration 
and  sundry  white  agents,  including  one  'who  stole  the  livery  of  Heaven  to 
Bervo  the  devil  in,'  but  everybody  scoffed  at  this  mockery,  as  did  ninety-nine 
hundredths  of  the  Cherokees. 

"  Now  Georgia,  during  Mr.  Adams'  Administration,  attempted  to  extend  her 
jurisdiction  over  these  poor  people.  Mr.  Adams,  finding  remonstrance  of  no 
avail,  stationed  a  part  of  the  army  at  a  proper  point,  prepared  to  drive  all 
intruders  out  of  the  Cherokee  country,  as  we  had  by  treaty  solemnly  engaged 
to  do.  This  answered  the  purpose.  Georgia  blustered,  but  dared  not  go  fur- 


80  AT   WESTHAVEN,  VERMONT. 

ther.  She  went  en  masse  for  Jackson,  of  course.  When  he  caino  in,  she  pro 
ceeded  at  once  to  extend  her  jurisdiction  over  the  Cherokees  in  very  deed. 
They  remonstrated — pointed  to  their  broken  treaties,  and  urged  the  President 
to  perform  his  sworn  duty,  and  protect  them,  but  in  vain.  Georgia  seized  a 
Cherokee  accused  of  killing  another  Cherokee  in  their  own  country,  tried  him 
for  and  convicted  him  of  murder.  He  sued  out  a  writ  of  error,  carried  the 
case  up  to  the  U.  S.  Supreme  Court,  and  there  obtained  a  decision  in  his  favor, 
establishing  the  utter  illegality  as  well  as  injustice  of  the  acts  of  Georgia  in 
the  premises.  The  validity  of  our  treaties  with  the  Cherokees,  and  the  conse 
quent  duty  of  the  President  to  see  them  enforced,  any  thing  in  any  State-law 
or  edict  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding,  was  explicitely  affirmed.  But  Presi 
dent  Jackson  decided  that  Georgia  was  right  and  the  Supreme  Court  wrong, 
and  refused  to  enforce  the  decision  of  the  latter.  So  the  Court  was  defied,  the 
Cherokee  hung,  the  Cherokee  country  given  up  to  the  cupidity  of  the  Geor 
gians,  and  its  rightful  owners  driven  across  the  Mississippi,  virtually  at  the 
point  of  the  bayonet.  That  case  changed  the  nature  of  our  Government, 
making  the  President  Supreme  Judge  of  the  Law  as  well  as  its  Chief  Min 
ister — in  other  words,  Dictator.  "  Amen !  Hurrah  for  Jackson  !"  said  the 
Pharisaic  Democracy  of  Party  and  Spoils.  We  could  not  say  it  after  them. 
We  considered  our  nation  perjured  in  the  trampling  down  and  exile  of  these 
Cherokees  ;  perjury  would  have  lain  heavy  on  our  soul  had  we  approved  and 
promoted  the  deed." 

On  another  occasion,  when  Silas  TVright  was  nominated  for  Gov 
ernor  of  the  State  of  New  York,  the  Tribune  broke  forth :  "  The 
Notorious  Seventeen' — what  New-Yorker  has  not  heard  of  them? 
— yet  how  small  a  proportion  of  our  present  voting  population  re 
tain  a  vivid  and  distinct  recollection  of  the  outrage  on  Republican 
ism  and  Popular  Rights  which  made  the  l  Seventeen'  so  unenviably 
notorious !  The  Editor  of  the  Tribune  is  of  that  proportion,  be  it 
small  or  large.  Though  a  boy  in  1824,  and  living  a  mile  across  the 
Vermont  line  of  the  State,  he  can  never  forget  the  indignation 
awakened  by  that  outrage,  which  made  him  for  ever  an  adversary 
of  the  Albany  Regency  and  the  demagogues  who  here  and  else 
where  made  use  of  the  terms  l  Democracy,'  '  Democrats,'  l  Demo 
cratic  party,'  to  hoodwink  and  cajole  the  credulous  and  unthinking 
— to  divert  their  attention  from  things  to  names — to  divest  them  of 
independent  and  manly  thought,  and  lead  them  blindfold  wherever 
the  intriguers'  interests  shall  dictate — to  establish  a  real  Aristocracy 
under  the  abused  name  of  Democracy.  It  was  1824  which  taught 
many  beside  us  the  nature  of  this  swindle,  and  fired  them  with  un* 


IMPATIENT    TO    BEGIN   HIS    APPRENTICESHIP.  81 

conquerable  zeal  and  resolution  to  defeat  the  fraud  by  exposing  it 
to  the  apprehension  of  a  duped  and  betrayed  people." 

These  extracts  will  assist  the  reader  to  recall  the  political  excite 
ments  of  the  time.  And  he  may  well  esteem  it  extraordinary  for  a 
boy  of  thirteen — an  age  when  a  boy  is,  generally,  most  a  boy — to 
understand  them  so  well,  and  to  be  interested  in  them  so  deeply. 
It  should  be  remembered,  however,  that  in  remote  country  places, 
where  the  topics  of  conversation  are  few,  all  the  people  take  a  de 
gree  of  interest  in  politics,  and  talk  about  political  questions  with  a 
frequency  and  pertinacity  of  which  the  busy  inhabitants  of  cities 
can  form  little  idea. 

Horace's  last  year  in  Westhaven  (1825)  wore  slowly  away.  He 
had  exhausted  the  schools ;  he  was  impatient  to  be  at  the  types, 
and  he  wearied  his  father  with  importunities  to  get  him  a  place  hi 
a  printing-office.  But  his  father  was  loth  to  let  him  go,  for  two 
reasons :  the  boy  was  useful  at  home,  and  the  cautious  father  feare<? 
he  would  not  do  well  away  from  home  ;  he  was  so  gentle,  so  ab 
sent,  so  awkward,  so  little  calculated  to  make  his  way  with  strap 
gers.  One  day,  the  boy  saw  in  the  "  Northern  Spectator,"  a  weekly 
paper,  published  at  East  Poultney,  eleven  miles  distant,  an  adver 
tisement  for  an  apprentice  in  the  office  of  the  u  Spectator  "  itself. 
He  showed  it  to  his  father,  and  wrung  from  him  a  reluctant  con 
sent  to  his  applying  for  the  place.  UI  have  n't  got  time  to  go  ant* 
see  about  it,  Horace ;  but  if  you  have  a  mind  to  walk  over  to  Poult 
ney  and  see  what  you  can  do,  why  you  may." 

Horace  had  a  mind  to. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

APPRENTICESHIP. 

fhe  Village  of  East  Poultney— Horace  applies  for  the  Place— Scene  tn  the  Garden- 
He  makes  an  Impression — A  difficulty  arises  and  is  overcome — Fie  enters  the 
office— Rite  of  Initiation— Horace  the  Victor— His  employer's  recollections  of  hiir 
—The  Pack  of  Cards— Horace  begins  to  paragraph— Joins  the  Debating  Society— 
His  manner  of  Debating— Horace  and  the  Dandy— His  noble  conduct  to  his 
father — His  first  glimpse  of  Saratoga — His  manners  at  the  Table — Becomes  the 
Town-Encyclopedia— The  Doctor's  Story— Recollections  of  one  of  his  fellow  ap 
prentices—Horace's  favorite  Poets— Politics  of  the  time— The  Anti-Mason  Excite 
ment—The  Northern  Spectator  stops — The  Apprentice  is  Free. 

EAST  POULTNEY  is  not,  decidedly  not,  a  place  which  a  traveler— 
if,  by  any  extraordinary  chance,  a  traveler  should  ever  visit  it — 
would  naturally  suspect  of  a  newspaper.  But,  in  one  of  the  most 
densely-populated  parts  of  the  city  of  New  York,  there  is  a  field! 
— a  veritable,  indubitable  field,  with  a  cow  in  it,  a  rough  wooden 
fence  around  it,  and  a  small,  low,  wooden  house  in  the  middle  of  it, 
where  an  old  gentleman  lives,  who  lived  there  when  all  was  rural 
around  him,  and  who  means  to  live  there  all  his  days,  pasturing  his 
cow  and  raising  his  potatoes  on  ground  which  he  could  sell — but 
won't — at  a  considerable  number  of  dollars  per  foot.  The  field  in 
the  metropolis  we  can  account  for.  But  that  a  newspaper  should 
ever  have  been  published  at  East  Poultney,  Rutland  county,  Ver 
mont,  seems,  at  the  first  view  of  it,  inexplicable. 

Vermont,  however,  is  a  land  of  villages  ;  and  the  business  which 
is  elsewhere  done  only  in  large  towns  is,  in  that  State,  divided 
among  the  villages  in  the  country.  Thus,  the  stranger  is  astonished 
at  seeing  among  the  few  signboards  of  mere  hamlets,  one  or  two 
containing  most  unexpected  and  metropolitan  announcements,  such 
as,  "  SILVERSMITH,"  "  ORGAN  FACTORY,"  "  PIANO  FORTES,"  "  PRINT 
ING  OFFICE,"  or  "  PATENT  MELODEONS."  East  Poultney,  for  example, 
is  little  more  than  a  hamlet,  yet  it  once  had  a  newspaper,  and 
boasts  a  small  factory  of  melodeona  at  this  moment.  A  foreigner 


THE    VILLAGE    OF    EAST    POULTNEY.  83 

• 

would  as  soon  expect  to  see  there  an  Italian  opera  house  or  a 
French  cafe. 

The  Poultney  river  is  a  small  stream  that  flows  through  a  valley, 
which  widens  and  narrows,  narrows  and  widens,  all  along  its  course ; 
here,  a  rocky  gorge ;  a  grassy  plain,  beyond.  At  one  of  its  narrow 
places,  where  the  two  ranges  of  hills  approach  and  nod  to  one 
another,  and  where  the  river  pours  through  a  rocky  channel — a 
torrent  on  a  very  small  scale — the  little  village  nestles,  a  cluster  of 
houses  at  the  base  of  an  enormous  hill.  It  is  built  round  a  small 
triangular  green,  in  the  middle  of  which  is  a  church,  with  a  hand 
some  clock  in  its  steeple,  all  complete  except  the  works,  and  bear 
ing  on  its  ample  face  the  date,  1805.  No  village,  however  minute, 
can  get  on  without  three  churches,  representing  the  Conservative, 
the  Enthusiastic,  and  Eccentric  tendencies  of  human  nature ;  and, 
of  course,  East  Poultney  has  three.  It  has  likewise  the  most 
remarkably  shabby  and  dilapidated  school-house  in  all  the  country 
round.  There  is  a  store  or  two;  but  business  is  not  brisk,  and 
when  a  customer  arrives  in  town,  perhaps,  his  first  difficulty  will  be 
to  find  the  storekeeper,  who  has  locked  up  his  store  and  gone  to 
hoe  in  his  garden  or  talk  to  the  blacksmith.  A  tavern,  a  furnace,  a 
saw-mill,  and  forty  dwelling  houses,  nearly  complete  the  inventory 
of  the  village.  The  place  has  a  neglected  and  '  seedy '  aspect  which 
is  rare  in  New  England.  In  that  remote  and  sequestered  spot,  it 
seems  to  have  been  forgotten,  and  left  behind  in  the  march  of  prog 
ress;  and  the  people,  giving  up  the  hope  and  the  endeavor  to  catch 
up,  have  settled  down  to  the  tranquil  enjoyment  of  Things  as  they 
Are.  The  village  cemetery,  near  by, — more  populous  far  than  the 
village,  for  the  village  is  an  old  one — is  upon  the  side  of  a  steep 
ascent,  and  whole  ranks  of  gravestones  bow,  submissive  to  the 
law  of  gravitation,  and  no  man  sets  them  upright.  A  quiet,  slow 
little  place  is  East  Poultney.  Thirty  years  ago,  the  people  were  a 
little  more  wide  awake,  and  there  were  a  few  more  of  them. 

It  was  a  fine  spring  morning  in  the  year  1826,  about  ten  o'clock, 
when  Mr.  Amos  Bliss,  the  manager,  and  one  of  the  proprietors,  of 
the  Northern  Spectator,  *  might  have  been  seen '  in  the  garden  be 
hind  his  house  planting  potatoes.  He  heard  the  gate  open  behind 
him,  and,  without  turning  or  looking  round,  became  dimly  conscious 
of  the  presence  of  a  boy.  But  the  boys  of  country  villages  go  into 


64  APPRENTICESHIP. 

• 

whosesoever  garden  their  wandering  fancy  impels  them,  and  suppos 
ing  this  boy  to  be  one  of  his  own  neighbors,  Mr.  Bliss  continued 
his  work  and  quickly  forgot  that  he  was  not  alone.  In  a  few  min 
utes,  he  heard  a  voice  close  behind  him,  a  strange  voice,  high- 
pitched  and  whining. 

It  said,  "  Are  you  the  man  that  carries  on  the  printing  office  ?" 

Mr.  Bliss  then  turned,  and  resting  upon  his  hoe,  surveyed  the  per 
son  who  had  thus  addressed  him.  He  saw  standing  before  him  a 
boy  apparently  about  fifteen  years  of  age,  of  a  light,  tall,  and  slen 
der  form,  dressed  in  the  plain,  farmer's  cloth  of  the  time,  his  gar 
ments  cut  with  an  utter  disregard  of  elegance  and  fit.  His  trow- 
sers  were  exceedingly  short  and  voluminous ;  he  wore  no  stockings ; 
his  shoes  were  of  the  kind  denominated  *  high-lows,'  and  much 
•worn  down ;  his  hat  was  of  felt,  *  one  of  the  old  stamp,  with  so 
small  a  brim,  that  it  looked  more  like  a  two-quart  measure  inverted 
than  anything  else ;'  and  it  was  worn  far  back  on  his  head  ;  his  hair 
was  white,  with  a  tinge  of  orange  at  its  extremities,  and  it  lay 
thinly  upon  a  broad  forehead  and  over  a  head  '  rocking  on  shoulders 
which  seemed  too  slender  to  support  the  weight  of  a  member  so 
disproportioned  to  the  general  outline.'  The  general  effect  of  the 
figure  and  its  costume  was  so  outre,  they  presented  such  a  combina 
tion  of  the  rustic  and  ludicrous,  and  the  apparition  had  come  upon 
him  so  suddenly,  that  the  amiable  gardener  could  scarcely  keep 
from  laughing. 

He  restrained  himself,  however,  and  replied,  "  Yes,  I  'm  the 
man." 

"Whereupon  the  stranger  asked,  "  Don't  you  want  a  boy  to  learn 
the  trade  ?" 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Bliss,  "  we  have  been  thinking  of  it.  Do  you 
want  to  learn  to  print  ?" 

"  I  've  had  some  notion  of  it,"  said  the  boy  in  true  Yankee  fash 
ion,  as  though  he  had  not  been  dreaming  about  it,  and  longing  for 
it  for  years. 

Mr.  Bliss  was  both  astonished  and  puzzled— astonished  that  such 
a  fellow  as  the  boy  looked  to  be,  should  have  ever  thought  of  learn 
ing  to  print,  and  puzzled  how  to  convey  to  him  an  idea  of  the  ab 
surdity  of  the  notion.  So,  with  an  expresssion  in  his  countenance, 
such  as  that  of  a  tender-hearted  dry-goods  merchant  might  be  sup- 


HORACE    APPLIES    FOB    THE    PLACE.  85 

posed  to  assume  if  a  hod-carrier  should  apply  for  a  place  in  the  lace 
department,  he  said,  "  Well,  my  boy— but,  you  know,  it  takes  con 
siderable  learning  to  be  a  printer.  Have  you  been  to  school  much  ?" 

"  No,"  said  the  boy, "  I  have  'nt  had  much  chance  at  school.  I ' ve 
read  some." 

"  What  have  you  read  ?"  asked  Mr.  Bliss. 

"  Well,  I  've  read  some  history,  and  some  travels,  and  a  little  of 
most  everything." 

"Where  do  you  live?" 

"  At  Westhaven." 

"  How  did  you  come  over  ?" 

"  I  came  on  foot." 

"  What's  your  name  ?" 

"  Horace  Greeley." 

Now  it  happened  that  Mr.  Amos  Bliss  had  been  for  the  last  three 
years  an  Inspector  of  Common  Schools,  and  in  fulfilling  the  duties 
of  his  office — examining  and  licensing  teachers — he  had  acquired  an 
uncommon  facility  in  asking  questions,  and  a  fondness  for  that  ex 
ercise  which  men  generally  entertain  for  any  employment  in  which 
they  suppose  themselves  to  excel.  The  youth  before  him  was — in  the 
language  of  medical  students — a  'fresh  subject,'  and  the  Inspector 
proceeded  to  try  all  his  skill  upon  him,  advancing  from  easy  ques 
tions  to  hard  ones,  up  to  those  knotty  problems  with  which  he  had 
been  wont  to  *  stump'  candidates  for  the  office  of  teacher.  The 
boy  was  a  match  for  him.  He  answered  every  question  promptly, 
clearly  and  modestly.  He  could  not  be  '  stumped'  in  the  ordinary 
school  studies,  and  of  the  books  he  had  read  he  could  give  a  correct 
and  complete  analysis.  In  Mr.  Bliss's  own  account  of  the  inter 
view,  he  says,  "  On  entering  into  conversation,  and  a  partial  exam 
ination  of  the  qualifications  of  my  new  applicant,  it  required  but  little 
time  to  discover  that  he  possessed  a  mind  of  no  common  order,  and 
an  acquired  intelligence  far  beyond  his  years.  He  had  had  but  little 
opportunity  at  the  common  school,  but  he  said  '  he  had  read  some,1 
and  what  he  had  read  he  well  understood  and  remembered.  In 
addition  to  the  ripe  intelligence  manifested  in  one  so  young,  and 
whose  instruction  had  been  so  limited,  there  was  a  single-minded- 
ness,  a  truthfulness  and  common  sense  in  what  he  said,  that  at 
once  commanded  rny  regard." 


86  APPRENTICESHIP. 

After  half  an  hour's  conversation  with  the  boy,  Mr.  Bliss  intimat 
ed  that  he  thought  he  would  do,  and  told  him  to  go  into  the  print 
ing-office  and  talk  to  the  foreman.  Horace  went  to  the  printing- 
office,  and  there  his  appearance  produced  an  effect  on  the  tender 
minds  of  the  three  apprentices  who  were  at  work  therein,  which 
can  be  much  better  imagined  than  described,  and  which  is  most- 
vividly  remembered  by  the  two  who  survive.  To  the  foreman 
Horace  addressed  himself,  regardless  certainly,  oblivious  probably, 
of  the  stare  and  the  remarks  of  the  boys.  The  foreman,  at  first, 
was  inclined  to  wonder  that  Mr.  Bliss  should,  for  one  moment, 
think  it  possible  that  a  boy  got  up  in  that  style  could  perform  the 
most  ordinary  duties  of  a  printer's  apprentice.  Ten  minutes'  talk 
with  him,  however,  effected  a  partial  revolution  in  his  mind  in  the 
boy's  favor,  and  as  he  was  greatly  in  want  of  another  apprentice, 
he  was  not  inclined  to  be  over  particular.  He  tore  off  a  slip  of 
proof-paper,  wrote  a  few  words  upon  it  hastily  with  a  pencil,  and 
told  the  boy  to  take  it  to  Mr.  Bliss.  That  piece  of  paper  was  his 
fate.  The  words  were :  *  Guess  we  'd  better  try  him}  Away  went 
Horace  to  the  garden,  and  presented  his  paper.  Mr.  Bliss,  whose 
curiosity  had  been  excited  to  a  high  pitch  by  the  extraordinary 
contrast  between  the  appearance  of  the  boy  and  his  real  quality, 
now  entered  into  a  long  conversation  with  him,  questioned  him 
respecting  his  history,  his  past  employments,  his  parents,  their  cir 
cumstances,  his  own  intentions  and  wishes ;  and  the  longer  he  talk 
ed,  the  more  his  admiration  grew.  The  result  was,  that  he  agreed 
to  accept  Horace  as  an  apprentice,  provided  his  father  would  agree 
to  the  usual  terms ;  and  then,  with  eager  steps,  and  a  light  heart, 
the  happy  boy  took  the  dusty  road  that  led  to  his  home  in  West- 
haven. 

"  You  're  not  going  to  hire  that  tow-head,  Mr.  Bliss,  are  you  ?" 
asked  one  of  the  apprentices  at  the  close  of  the  day.  "  I  am,"  was 
the  reply,  "and  if  you  boys  are  expecting  to  get  any  fun  out  of 
him,  you  'd  better  get  it  quick,  or  you  '11  be  too  late.  There 's  some 
thing  in  that  tow-head,  as  you  '11  find  out  before  you  're  a  week 
older." 

A  day  or  two  after,  Horace  packed  up  his  wardrobe  in  a  small 
cotton  handkerchief.  Small  as  it  was,  it  would  have  held  more  •, 
for  its  proprietor  never  had  more  than  two  shirts,  and  one  change 


A    DIFFICULTY    ARISES    AND    IS    OVERCOME.  87 

of  outer-clothing,  at  the  same  time,  till  he  was  of  age.  Father  and 
eon  walked,  side  by  side,  to  Poultney,  the  boy  carrying  his  possess 
ions  upon  a  stick  over  his  shoulder. 

At  Poultney,  an  unexpected  difficulty  arose,  which  for  a  time  made 
Horace  tremble  in  his  high-low  shoes.  The  terms  proposed  by  Mr. 
Bliss  were,  that  the  boy  should  be  bound  for  five  years-,  and  receive 
his  board  and  twenty  v'ollars  a  year.  Now,  Mr.  Greeley  had  ideas 
of  his  own  on  the  subject  of  apprenticeship,  and  he  objected  to  this 
proposal,  and  to  every  particular  of  it.  In  the  first  place,  he  had 
determined  that  no  child  of  his  should  ever  be  bound  at  all.  In  the 
second  place,  he  thought  five  years  an  unreasonable  time ;  thirdly, 
he  considered  that  twenty  dollars  a  year  and  board  was  a  compen 
sation  ridiculously  disproportionate  to  the  services  which  Horace 
would  be  required  to  render ;  and  finally,  on  each  and  all  of  these 
points,  he  clung  to  his  opinion  with  the  tenacity  of  a  Greeley.  Mr. 
Bliss  appealed  to  the  established  custom  of  the  country ;  five  years 
was  the  usual  period ;  the  compensation  offered  was  the  regular 
thing ;  the  binding  was  a  point  essential  to  the  employer's  interest. 
And  at  every  pause  in  the  conversation,  the  appealing  voice  of  Hor 
ace  was  heard :  "  Father,  I  guess  you  'd  better  make  a  bargain  with 
Mr.  Bliss;"  or,  "Father,  I  guess  it  won't  make  much  difference;" 
or,  "Don't  you  think  you'd  better  do  it,  father?"  At  one  mo 
ment  the  boy  was  reduced  to  despair.  Mr.  Bliss  had  given  it  as 
his  ultimatum  that  the  proposed  binding  was  absolutely  indispensa 
ble  ;  he  "  could  do  business  in  no  other  way."  "  Well,  then,  Hor 
ace,"  said  the  father,  "let  us  go  home."  The  father  turned  to  go  ; 
but  Horace  lingered ;  he  could  not  give  it  up ;  and  so  the  father 
turned  again ;  the  negotiation  was  re-opened,  and  after  a  prolonged 
discussion,  a  compromise  was  effected.  What  the  terms  were,  that 
were  finally  agreed  to,  I  cannot  positively  state,  for  the  three  me 
mories  which  I  have  consulted  upon  the  subject  give  three  different 
replies.  Probably,  however,  they  were — no  binding,  and  no  money 
for  six  months ;  then  the  boy  could,  if  he  chose,  bind  himself  for 
the  remainder  of  the  five  years,  at  forty  dollars  a  year,  the  appren 
tice  to  be  boarded  from  the  beginning.  And  so  the  father  went 
home,  and  the  son  went  straight  to  the  printing  office  and  took  his 
first  lesson  in  the  art  of  setting  type. 

A  few  months  after,  it  may  be  as  well  to  mention  here,  Mr. 


68  APPRENTICESHIP. 

Greeley  removed  to  Erie  county,  Pennsylvania,  and  bought  some 
wild  land  there,  from  which  he  gradually  created  a  farm,  leaving 
Horace  alone  in  Vermont.  Grass  now  grows  where  the  little  house 
stood  in  Westhaven,  in  which  the  family  lived  longest,  and  the  barn 
in  which  they  stored  their  hay  and  kept  their  cattle,  leans  forward 
like  a  kneeling  elephant,  and  lets  in  the  daylight  through  ten 
thousand  apertures.  But  the  neighbors  point  out  the  tree  that 
stood  before  their  front  door,  and  the  tree  that  shaded  the  kitchen 
window,  and  the  tree  that  stood  behind  the  house,  and  the  tree 
whose  apples  Horace  liked,  and  the  bed  of  mint  with  which  he  re 
galed  his  nose.  And  both  the  people  of  Westhaven  and  those  of 
Amherst  assert  that  whenever  the  Editor  of  the  Tribune  revisits 
the  scenes  of  his  early  life,  at  the  season  when  apples  are  ripe,  one 
of  the  things  that  he  is  surest  to  do,  is  to  visit  the  apple  trees  that 
produce  the  fruit  which  he  liked  best  when  he  was  a  boy,  and 
which  he  still  prefers  before  all  the  apples  of  the  world. 

The  new  apprentice  took  his  place  at  the  font,  and  received  from 
the  foreman  his  '  copy,'  composing  stick,  and  a  few  words  of  in 
struction,  and  then  he  addressed  himself  to  his  task.  He  needed 
no  further  assistance.  The  mysteries  of  the  craft  he  seemed  to 
comprehend  intuitively.  He  had  thought  of  his  chosen  vocation 
for  many  years ;  he  had  formed  a  notion  how  the  types  must  be  ar 
ranged  in  order  to  produce  the  desired  impression,  and,  therefore, 
all  he  had  to  acquire  was  manual  dexterity.  In  perfect  silence, 
without  looking  to  the  right  hand  or  to  the  left,  heedless  of  the 
sayings  and  doings  of  the  other  apprentices,  though  they  were  bent 
on  mischief,  and  tried  to  attract  and  distract  his  attention,  Hor 
ace  worked  on,  hour  after  hour,  all  that  day;  and  when  he  left  the 
office  at  night  could  set  type  better  and  faster  than  many  an  ap 
prentice  who  had  had  a  month's  practice.  The  next  day,  he  worked 
with  the  same  silence  and  intensity.  The  boys  were  puzzled. 
They  thought  it  absolutely  incumbent  on  them  to  perform  an  initiat- 
i.Mg  rite  of  some  kind ;  but  the  new  boy  gave  them  no  handle, 
no  excuse,  no  opening.  He  committed  no  greenness,  he  spoke  to  no 
one,  looked  at  no  one,  seemed  utterly  oblivious  of  every  thing  save 
only  his  copy  and  his  type.  They  threw  type  at  him,  but  he  never 
looked  around.  They  talked  saucily  at  him,  but  he  threw  back  no 
retort.  This  would  never  do.  Towards  the  close  of  the  third  day, 


HIM.  89 

the  oldest  apprentices  took  one  of  the  large  black  balls  with  which 
printers  used  to  dab  the  ink  upon  the  type,  and  remarking  that  in 
his  opinion  Horace's  hair  was  of  too  light  a  hue  for  so  black  an 
art  as  that  which  he  had  undertaken  to  learn,  applied  the  ball, 
well  inked,  to  Horace's  head,  making  four  distinct  dabs.  The  boys, 
the  journeyman,  the  pressman  and  the  editor,  all  paused  in  their 
work  to  observe  the  result  of  this  experiment.  Horace  neither 
spoke  nor  moved.  He  went  on  with  his  work  as  though  nothing 
had  happened,  and  soon  after  went  to  the  tavern  where  he  boarded, 
and  spent  an  hour  in  purifying  his  dishonored  locks.  And  that  was 
all  the  *  fun  '  the  boys  *  got  out '  of  their  new  companion  on  that 
occasion.  They  were  conquered.  In  a  few  days  the  victor  and  the 
vanquished  were  excellent  friends. 

Horace  was  now  fortunately  situated.  Ampler  means  of  acquir 
ing  knowledge  were  within  his  reach  than  he  had  ever  before  en 
joyed  ;  nor  were  there  wanting  opportunities  for  the  display  of  his 
acquisitions  and  the  exercise  of  his  powers. 

"  About  this  time,"  writes  Mr.  Bliss,  "  a  sound,  well- read  theologian  and  a 
practical  printer  was  employed  to  edit  and  conduct  the  paper.  This  opened  a 
desirable  school  for  intellectual  culture  to  our  young  debutant.  Debates  en 
sued  ;  historical,  political,  and  religious  questions  were  discussed ;  and  often 
while  all  hands  were  engaged  at  the  font  of  types  ;  and  here  the  purpose  for 
which  our  young  aspirant  'had  read  some'  was  made  manifest.  Such  was 
the  correctness  of  his  memory  in  what  he  had  read,  in  both  biblical  and  pro 
fane  history,  that  the  reverend  gentleman  was  often  put  at  fault  by  his  correc 
tions.  He  always  quoted  chapter  and  verse  to  prove  the  point  in  dispute.  On 
one  occasion  the  editor  said  that  money  was  the  root  of  all  evil,  when  he  was 
corrected  by  the  '  devil,'  who  said  he  believed  it  read  in  the  Bible  that  the  love 
of  money  was  the  root  of  all  evil. 

"  A  small  town  library  gave  him  access  to  books,  by  which,  together  with 
the  reading  of  the  exchange  papers  of  the  office,  he  improved  all  his  leisure 
hours.  He  became  a  frequent  talker  in  our  village  lyceum,  and  often  wrote 
dissertations. 

.  "  In  the  first  organization  of  our  village  temperance  society,  the  question 
arose  as  to  the  age  when  the  young  might  become  members.  Fearing  lest  his 
own  age  might  bar  him,  he  moved  that  they  be  received  when  they  were  old 
enough  to  drink — which  was  adopted  nem.  con. 

"  Though  modest  and  retiring,  he  was  often  led  into  political  discussions 
with  our  ablest  politicians,  and  few  would  leave  the  field  without  feeling  in- 


90  APPRENTICESHIP. 

Btructed  by  the  soundness  of  his  views  and  the  unerring  correctness  of  hiB 
statements  of  political  events. 

"  Having  a  thirst  for  knowledge,  he  bent  his  mind  and  all  his  energies  to  its 
acquisition,  with  unceasing  application  and  untiring  devotion ;  and  I  doubt  if, 
in  the  whole  term  of  his  apprenticeship,  he  ever  spent  an  hour  in  the  common 
recreations  of  young  men.  He  used  to  pass  my  door  as  he  went  to  his  daily 
meals,  and  though  I  often  sat  near,  or  stood  in  the  way,  so  much  absorbed  did 
he  appear  in  his  own  thoughts — his  head  bent  forward  and  his  eyes  fixed 
upon  the  ground,  that  I  have  the  charity  to  believe  the  reason  why  he  never 
turned  his  head  or  gave  me  a  look,  was  because  he  had  no  idea  I  was 
there  !" 


On  one  point  the  reminiscences  of  Mr.  Bliss  require  correction. 
He  thinks  that  his  apprentice  never  spent  an  hour  in  the  common 
recreations  of  young  men  during  his  residence  in  Poultney.  Mr. 
Bliss,  however,  was  his  senior  and  his  employer  ;  and  therefore 
observed  him  at  a  distance  and  from  above.  But  I,  who  have  con 
versed  with  those  who  were  the  friends  and  acquaintances  of  the 
youth,  can  tell  a  better  story.  He  had  a  remarkable  fondness  for 
games  of  mingled  skill  and  chance,  such  as  whist,  draughts,  chess, 
and  others ;  and  the  office  was  never  without  its  dingy  pack  of 
cards,  carefully  concealed  from  the  reverend  editor  and  the  serious 
customers,  but  brought  out  from  its  hiding-place  whenever  the 
coast  was  clear  and  the  boys  had  a  leisure  hour.  Horace  never 
gambled,  nor  would  he  touch  the  cards  on  Sunday ;  but  the  delight 
of  playing  a  game  occasionally  was  heightened,  perhaps,  by  the  fact 
that  in  East  Poultney  a  pack  of  cards  was  regarded  as  a  thing  ac 
cursed,  not  fit  for  saintly  hands  to  touch.  Bee-hunting,  too,  con 
tinued  to  be  a  favorite  amusement  with  Horace.  "  He  was  always 
ready  for  a  bee-hunt,"  says  one  who  knew  him  well  in  Poultney, 
and  bee-hunted  with  him  often  in  the  woods  above  the  village.  To 
finish  with  this  matter  of  amusement,  I  may  mention  that  a  danc 
ing-school  was  held  occasionally  at  the  village-tavern,  and  Horace 
was  earnestly  (ironically,  perhaps)  urged  to  join  it ;  but  he  refused. 
Not  that  he  disapproved  of  the  dance — that  best  of  all  home  recrea 
tions — but  he  fancied  he  was  not  exactly  the  figure  for  a  quadrille. 
lie  occasionally  looked  in  at  the  door  of  the  dancing-room,  but 
never  could  be  prevailed,  upon  to  enter  it. 

Until  he  came  to  live  at  Poultney,  Horace  had  never  tried  his  hand 


JOINS   A   DEBATING   SOCIETY.  91 

at  original  composition.  Ths  injurious  practice  of  writing  '  compo 
sitions'  was  not  among  the  exercises  of  any  of  the  schools  which  he 
had  attended.  At  Poultney,  very  early  in  his  apprenticeship,  he 
began,  not  indeed  to  write,  but  to  compose  paragraphs  for  the  pa 
per  as  he  stood  at  the  desk,  and  to  set  them  in  type  as  he  composed 
them.  They  were  generally  items  of  news  condensed  from  large 
articles  in  the  exchange  papers ;  but  occasionally  he  composed  an 
original  paragraph  of  some  length ;  and  he  continued  to  render  edi 
torial  assistance  of  this  kind  all  the  while  he  remained  in  the  office. 
The  '  Northern  Spectator'  was  an  *  Adams  paper,'  and  Horace  was 
an  Adams  man. 

The  Debating  Society,  to  which  Mr.  Bliss  alludes,  was  an  impor 
tant  feature  in  the  life  of  East  Poultney.  There  happened  to  be 
among  the  residents  of  the  place,  during  the  apprenticeship  of  Hor 
ace  Greeley,  a  considerable  number  of  intelligent  men,  men  of  some 
knowledge  and  talent— the  editor  of  the  paper,  the  village  doctor, 
a  county  judge,  a  clergyman  or  two,  two  or  three  persons  of  some 
political  eminence,  a  few  well-informed  mechanics,  fanners,  and 
others.  These  gentlemen  had  formed  themselves  into  a  '  Lyceum,' 
before  the  arrival  of  Horace,  and  the  Lyceum  had  become  so 
famous  in  the  neighborhood,  that  people  frequently  came  a  distance 
of  ten  miles  to  attend  its  meetings.  It  assembled  weekly,  in  the 
winter,  at  the  little  brick  school-house.  An  original  essay  was  read 
by  the  member  whose  'turn '  it  was  to  do  so,  and  then  the  question 
of  the  evening  was  debated  ;  first,  by  four  members  who  had  been 
designated  at  the  previous  meeting,  and  after  they  had  each  spoken 
once,  the  question  was  open  to  the  whole  society.  The  questions 
were  mostly  of  a  very  innocent  and  rudimental  character,  as,  '  Is 
novel-reading  injurious  to  society?'  'Has  a  person  a  right  to  take 
life  in  self-defense  ?'  'Is  marriage  conducive  to  happiness?'  'Do 
we,  as  a  nation,  exert  a  good  moral  influence  in  the  world  V  '  Do 
either  of  the  great  parties  of  the  day  carry  out  the  principles  of  the 
Declaration  of  Independence  ?'  '  Is  the  Union  likely  to  be  perpetu 
ated  ?'  '  Was  Napoleon  Bonaparte  a  great  man  V  '  Is  it  a  person's 
duty  to  take  the  temperance  pledge  ?'  et  cetera. 

Horace  joined  the  society,  the  first  winter  of  his  residence  in 
Poultney,  and,  young  as  he  was,  soon  became  one  of  its  leading 
members.  "  He  was  a  i  ml  giant  at  the  Debating  Society,"  eaya 


92  APPRENTICESHIP. 

one  of  his  early  admirers.  "  Whenever  he  was  appointed  to  speak 
or  to  read  an  essay,  he  never  wanted  to  be  excused;  he  was  always 
ready.  He  was  exceedingly  interested  in  the  questions  which  he 
discussed,  and  stuck  to  his  opinion  against  all  opposition — not  dis 
courteously,  but  still  lie  stuck  to  it,  replying  with  the  most  perfect 
assurance  to  men  of  high  station  and  of  low.  He  had  one  advan 
tage  over  all  his  fellow  members ;  it  was  his  memory.  He  had  read 
everything,  and  remembered  the  minutest  details  of  important 
events  ;  dates,  names,  places,  figures,  statistics — nothing  had  escaped 
him.  He  was  never  treated  as  a  ~boy  in  the  society,  but  as  a  man 
and  an  equal ;  and  his  opinions  were  considered  with  as  much  de 
ference  as  those  of  the  judge  or  the  sheriff — more,  I  think.  To  the 
graces  of  oratory  he  made  no  pretense,  but  he  was  a  fluent  and 
interesting  speaker,  and  had  a  way  of  giving  an  unexpected  turn  to 
the  debate  by  reminding  members  of  a  fact,  well  known  but  over 
looked;  or  by  correcting  a  misquotation,  or  by  appealing  to  what 
are  called  first  principles.  He  was  an  opponent  to  be  afraid  of; 
yet  his  sincerity  and  his  earnestness  were  so  evident,  that  those 
whom  he  most  signally  floored  liked  him  none  the  less  for  it.  He 
never  lost  his  temper.  In  short,  he  spoke  in  his  sixteenth  year  just 
as  he  speaks  now ;  and  when  he  came  a  year  ago  to  lecture  in  a 
neighboring  village,  I  saw  before  me  the  Horace  Greeley  of  the 
old  Poultney  *  Forum,'  as  we  called  it,  and  no  other." 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  record,  that  Horace  never  made  the 
slightest  preparation  for  the  meetings  of  the  Debating  Society  in 
the  way  of  dress — except  so  far  as  to  put  on  his  jacket.  In  the 
summer,  he  was  accustomed  to  wear,  while  at  work,  two  garments, 
a  shirt  and  trowsers ;  and  when  the  reader  considers  that  his  trow- 
sers  were  very  short,  his  sleeves  tucked  up  above  his  elbows,  his 
shirt  open  in  front,  he  will  have  before  his  mind's  eye  the  picture 
of  a  youth  attired  with  extreme  simplicity.  In  his  walks  about  the 
village,  he  added  to  his  dress  a  straw  hat,  valued  originally  at  one 
shilling.  In  the  winter,  his  clothing  was  really  insufficient.  So,  at 
least,  thought  a  kind-hearted  lady  who  used  to  see  him  pass  her 
window  on  his  way  to  dinner.  "  He  never,"  she  says,  "  had  an 
overcoat  while  he  lived  here;  and  I  used  to  pity  him  so  much  in 
cold  weather.  I  remember  him  as  a  slender,  pale  little  fellow, 
younger  looking  than  he  really  was,  in  a  brown  jacket  much  too 


HIS   FIRST    GLIMPSE   AT    SARATOGA.  93 

short  for  him.  I  used  to  think  the  winds  would  blow  him  away 
sometimes,  as  he  crept  along  the  fence  lost  in  thought,  with  his 
head  down,  and  his  hands  in  his  pockets.  He  was  often  laughed 
at  for  his  homely  dress,  by  the  boys.  Once,  when  a  very  interest 
ing  question  was  to  be  debated  at  the  school-house,  a  young  man 
who  was  noted  among  us  for  the  elegance  of  his  dress  and  the 
length  of  his  account  at  the  store,  advised  Horace  to  get  a  new  4  rig 
out '  for  the  occasion,  particularly  as  he  was  to  lead  one  of  the 
sides,  and  an  unusually  large  audience  was  expected  to  be  present. 
'  No,'  said  Horace,  '  I  guess  I  'd  better  wear  my  old  clothes  than 
run  in  debt  for  new  ones.'  " 

Now,  forty  dollars  a  year  is  sufficient  to  provide  a  boy  in  the 
country  with  good  and  substantial  clothing ;  half  the  sum  will  keep 
him  warm  and  decent.  The  reader,  therefore,  may  be  inclined  to 
censure  the  young  debater  for  his  apparent  parsimony;  or  worse,  for 
an  insolent  disregard  of  the  feelings  of  others;  or,  worst,  for  a  pride 
that  aped  humility.  The  reader,  if  that  be  the  present  inclination 
of  his  mind,  will  perhaps  experience  a  revulsion  of  feeling  when  he 
is  informed — as  I  now  do  inform  him,  and  on  the  best  authority-- 
that  every  dollar  of  the  apprentice's  little  stipend  which  he  could 
save  by  the  most  rigid  economy,  was  piously  sent  to  his  father,  who 
was  struggling  in  the  wilderness  on  the  other  side  of  the  Alleghanies, 
with  the  difficulties  of  a  new  farm,  and  an  insufficient  capital. 
And  this  was  the  practice  of  Horace  Greeley  during  all  the  years 
of  his  apprenticeship,  and  for  years  afterwards ;  as  long,  in  fact,  as 
his  father's  land  was  unpaid  for  and  inadequately  provided  with 
implements,  buildings,  and  stock.  At  a  time  when  filial  piety  may 
be  reckoned  among  the  extinct  virtues,  it  is  a  pleasure  to  record  a 
fact  like  this. 

Twice,  during  his  residence  at  Poultney,  Horace  visited  his 
parents  in  Pennsylvania,  six  hundred  miles  distant,  walking  a  great 
part  of  the  way,  and  accomplishing  the  rest  on  a  slow  canal  boat. 
On  one  of  these  tedious  journeys  he  first  saw  Saratoga,  a  circum 
stance  to  which  he  alluded  seven  years  after,  in  a  fanciful  epistle, 
-written  from  that  famous  watering-place,  and  published  in  the 
"New  Yorker": 

"Saratoga!  bright  city  of  *.hQ  present!  thou  ever-during  one-and-twenty 


94  APPRENTICESHIP. 

of  existence  !  a  wanderer  by  thy  stately  palaces  and  gushing  fountains  salutes 
thee !  Years,  yet  not  many,  have  elapsed  since,  a  weary  roamer  from  a  dis 
tant  land,  he  first  sought  thy  health-giving  waters.  November's  sky  was 
over  earth  and  him,  and  more  than  all,  over  theo ;  and  its  chilling  blasts 
made  mournful  melody  amid  the  waving  branches  of  thy  ever  verdant  pines. 
Then,  as  now,  thou  wert  a  City  of  Tombs,  deserted  by  the  gay  throng  whose 
light  laughter  re-echoes  so  joyously  through  thy  summer-robed  arbors.  But 
to  him,  thou  wert  ever  a  fairy  land,  and  he  wished  to  quaff  of  thy  Hygeian 
treasures  as  of  the  nectar  of  the  poet's  fables.  One  long  and  earnest  draught, 
ere  its  sickening  disrelish  came  over  him,  and  he  flung  down  the  cup  in  the 
bitterness  of  disappointment  and  disgust,  and  sadly  addressed  him  again  to 
his  pedestrian  journey.  Is  it  ever  thus  with  thy  castles,  Imagination  ?  thy 
pictures,  Fancy  ?  thy  dreams,  0  Hope  ?  Perish  the  unbidden  thought !  A 
health,  in  sparkling  Congress,  to  the  rainbow  of  life  !  even  though  its  prom 
ise  prove  as  shadowy  as  the  baseless  fabric  of  a  vision.  Better  even  the 
dear  delusion  of  Hope— if  delusion  it  must  be— than  the  rugged  reality  of 
listless  despair.  (I  think  I  could  do  this  better  in  rhyme,  if  I  had  not  tres 
passed  in  that  line  already.  However,  the  cabin-conversation  of  a  canal- 
packet  is  not  remarkably  favorable  to  poetry.)  In  plain  prose,  there  is  a 
great  deal  of  mismanagement  about  this  same  village  of  Saratoga  The  sea- 
eon  gives  up  the  ghost  too  easily,"  Ac.,  &c. 


During  the  four  years  that  Horace  lived  at  East  Poultney,  he 
boarded  for  some  time  at  the  tavern,  which  still  affords  entertain 
ment  for  man  and  beast — i.  e.  peddler  and  horse — in  that  village. 
It  was  kept  by  an  estimable  couple,  who  became  exceedingly  at 
tached  to  their  singular  guest,  and  he  to  them.  Their  recollections 
of  him  are  to  the  following  effect : — Horace  at  that  time  ate  and 
drank  whatever  was  placed  before  him ;  he  was  rather  fond  of  good 
living^  ate  furiously,  and  fast,  and  much.  He  was  very  fond  of  coffee, 
but  cared  little  for  tea.  Every  one  drank  in  those  days,  and  there 
was  a  great  deal  of  drinking  at  the  tavern,  but  Horace  never  could 
be  tempted  to  taste  a  drop  of  anything  intoxicating.  "  I  always," 
said  the  kind  landlady,  u  took  a  great  interest  in  young  people,  and 
when  I  saw  they  were  going  wrong,  it  used  to  distress  me,  no  matter 
whom  they  belonged  to ;  but  I  never  feared  for  Horace.  Whatever 
might  be  going  on  about  the  village  or  in  the  bar-room,  I  always 
knew  he  would  do  right."  He  stood  on  no  ceremony  at  the  table  ; 
\\zfell  to  without  waiting  to  be  asked  or  helped,  devoured  every 
thing  right  and  left,  stopped  as  suddenly  as  ho  had  begun,  and 


95 

vanished  instantly.  One  day,  as  Horace  was  stretching  his  long 
arm  over  to  the  other  side  of  the  table  in  quest  of  a  distant  dish, 
the  servant,  wishing  to  hint  to  him  in  a  jocular  manner,  that  that 
was  not  exactly  the  most  proper  way  of  proceeding,  said,  "  Don't 
trouble  yourself,  Horace,  /  want  to  help  you  to  that  dish,  for,  you 
know,  I  have  a  particular  regard  for  you."  He  blushed,  as  only  a 
boy  with  a  very  white  face  can  blush,  and,  thenceforth,  was  less 
adventurous  in  exploring  the  remoter  portions  of  the  table-cloth. 
When  any  topic  of  interest  was  started  at  the  table,  he  joined  in  it 
with  the  utmost  confidence,  and  maintained  his  opinion  against 
anybody,  talking  with  great  vivacity,  and  never  angrily.  He  came, 
at  length,  to  be  regarded  as  a  sort  of  Town  Encyclopedia,  and  if 
any  one  wanted  to  know  anything,  he  went,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
to  Horace  Greeley ;  and,  if  a  dispute  arose  between  two  individuals, 
respecting  a  point  of  history,  or  politics,  or  science,  they  referred  it 
to  Horace  Greeley,  and  whomsoever  Tie  declared  to  be  right,  was 
confessed  to  be  the  victor  in  the  controversy.  Horace  never  went 
to  a  tea-drinking  or  a  party  of  any  kind,  never  went  on  an  excur 
sion,  never  slept  away  from  home  or  was  absent  from  one  meal 
during  the  period  of  his  residence  at  the  tavern,  except  when 
he  went  to  visit  his  parents.  He  seldom  went  to  church,  but  spent 
the  Sunday,  usually,  in  reading.  He  was  a  stanch  Universalist,  8 
stanch  whig,  and  a  pre-eminently  stanch  anti-Mason.  Thus,  the 
landlord  and  landlady. 

Much  of  this  is  curiously  confirmed  by  a  story  often  told  in  con 
vivial  moments  by  a  distinguished  physician  of  New  York,  who 
on  one  occasion  chanced  to  witness  at  the  Poultney  tavern  the  ex 
ploits,  gastronomic  and  encyclopedic,  to  which  allusion  has  just 
been  made.  "Did  I  ever  tell  you,"  he  is  wont  to  begin,  "  how  and 
where  I  first  saw  my  friend  Horace  Greeley  ?  Well,  thus  it  hap 
pened.  It  was  one  of  the  proudest  and  happiest  days  of  my  life. 
I  was  a  country  boy  then,  a  farmer's  son,  and  we  lived  a  few  miles 
from  East  Poultney.  On  the  day  in  question  I  was  sent  by  my 
father  to  sell  a  load  of  potatoes  at  the  store  in  East  Poultney,  and 
bring  back  various  commodities  in  exchange.  Now  this  was  the 
first  time,  you  must  know,  that  I  had  ever  been  entrusted  with  so 
important  an  errand.  I  had  been  to  the  village  with  my  father 
often  enough,  but  now  I  was  to  go  alone,  and  I  felt  as  proud  and 


96  APPRENTICESHIP. 

independent  as  a  midshipman  the  first  time  he  goes  ashore  in  com 
mand  of  a  boat.  Big  with  the  fate  of  twenty  bushels  of  potatoes, 
off  I  drove— reached  the  village — sold  out  my  load — drove  round 
to  the  tavern — put  up  my  horses,  and  went  in  to  dinner.  This  going 
to  the  tavern  on  my  own  account,  all  by  myself,  and  paying  my  own 
bill,  was,  I  thought,  the  crowning  glory  of  the  whole  adventure. 
There  were  a  good  many  people  at  dinner,  the  sheriff  of  the  county 
and  an  ex-member  of  Congress  among  them,  and  I  felt  considerably 
abashed  at  first ;  but  I  had  scarcely  begun  to  eat,  when  my  eyes 
fell  upon  an  object  so  singular  that  I  could  do  little  else  than  stare 
at  it  all  the  while  it  remained  in  the  room.  It  was  a  tall,  pale, 
white-haired,  gawky  boy,  seated  at  the  further  end  of  the  table. 
lie  was  in  his  shirt-sleeves,  and  he  was  eating  with  a  rapidity  and 
awkwardness  that  I  never  saw  equaled  before  nor  since.  It  seem 
ed  as  if  he  was  eating  for  a  wager,  and  had  gone  in  to  win.  He 
neither  looked  up  nor  round,  nor  appeared  to  pay  the  least  attention 
to  the  conversation.  My  first  thought  was,  l  This  is  a  pretty  sort 
of  a  tavern  to  let  such  a  fellow  as  that  sit  at  the  same  table  with  all 
these  gentlemen ;  he  ought  to  come  in  with  the  hostler.'  I  thought 
it  strange,  too,  that  no  one  seemed  to  notice  him,  and  I  supposed 
he  owed  his  continuance  at  the  table  to  that  circumstance  alone. 
And  so  I  sat,  eating  little  myself,  and  occupied  in  watching  the  won 
derful  performance  of  this  wonderful  youth.  At  length  the  conver 
sation  at  the  table  became  quite  animated,  turning  upon  some 
measure  of  an  early  Congress ;  and  a  question  arose  how  certain 
members  had  voted  on  its  final  passage.  There  was  a  difference 
of  opinion;  and  the  sheriff,  a  very  finely-dressed  personage,  I 
thought,  to  my  boundless  astonishment,  referred  the  matter  to  the 
unaccountable  Boy,  saying,  *  Aint  that  right,  Greeley  ?'  '  No,' 
said  the  Unaccountable,  without  looking  up,  'you  're  wrong.' 
'There,'  said  the  ex-member,  'I  told  you  so.'  *  And  you 're 
wrong,  too,'  said  the  still-devouring  Mystery.  Then  he  laid  down 
his  knife  and  fork,  and  gave  the  history  of  the  measure,  explained 
the  state  of  parties  at  the  time,  stated  the  vote  in  dispute,  named 
the  leading  advocates  and  opponents  of  the  bill,  and,  in  short,  gave 
a  complete  exposition  of  the  whole  matter.  I  listened  and  won 
dered  ;  but  what  surprised  me  most  was,  that  the  company  receiv 
ed  his  statement  as  pure  gospel,  and  as  settling  the  question  be- 


RECOLLECTIONS    OF    ONE    OF    HIS    FELLOW  APPRENTICES.        97 

yond  dispute — as  a  dictionary  settles  a  dispute  respecting  the  spell 
ing  of  a  word.  A  minute  after,  the  boy  left  the  dining  room,  and  I 
never  saw  him  again,  till  I  met  him,  years  after,  in  the  streets  of 
New  York,  when  I  claimed  acquaintance  with  him  as  a  brother 
Vermonter,  and  told  him  this  story,  to  his  great  amusement." 

One  of  his  fellow-apprentices  favors  me  with  some  interesting 
reminiscences.  He  says,  u  I  was  a  fellow-apprentice  with  Horace 
Greeley  at  Poultney  for  nearly  two  years.  We  boarded  together 
during  that  period  at  four  different  places,  and  we  were  constantly 
together."  The  following  passage  from  a  letter  from  this  early 
friend  of  our  hero  will  be  welcome  to  the  reader,  notwithstanding 
its  repetitions  of  a  few  facts  already  known  to  him : — 

Little  did  the  inhabitants  of  East  Poultney.  where  Horace  Greeley  went  to 
reside  in  April,  1826,  as  an  apprentice  to  the  printing  business,  dream  of  the 
potent  influence  he  was  a  few  years  later  destined  to  exert,  not  only  upon  the 
polities  of  a  neighboring  State,  but  upon  the  noblest  and  grandest  philan 
thropic  enterprises  of  the  age.  He  was  then  a  remarkably  plain-looking  unso 
phisticated  lad  of  fifteen,  with  a  slouching,  careless  gait,  leaning  away  for 
ward  as  he  walked,  as  if  both  his  head  and  his  heels  wore  too  heavy  for  his 
body.  He  wore  a  wool  hat  of  the  old  stamp,  with  so  small  a  brim,  that  it 
looked  more  like  a  two-quart  measure  inverted  than  a  hat ;  and  he  had  a  sin 
gular,  whining  voice  that  provoked-the  merritnentof  the  older  apprentices,  who 
had  hardly  themselves  outgrown,  in  their  brief  village  residence,  similar  pecu 
liarities  of  country  breeding.  But  the  rogues  could  not  help  pluming  themselves 
upon  their  superior  manners  and  position ;  and  it  must  be  confessed  that  the 
young  *  stranger  *  was  mercilessly  '  taken  in '  by  his  elders  in  the  office,  when 
ever  an  opportunity  for  a  practical  joke  presented  itself. 

But  these  things  soon  passed  away,  and  as  Horace  was  seen  to  be  an  un 
usually  intelligent  and  honest  lad,  he  came  to  be  better  appreciated.  The  office 
in  which  he  was  employed  was  that  of  the  Northern  Spectator,  a  weekly 
paper  then  published  by  Messrs.  Bliss  &>  Dewey,  arid  edited  by  E.  <GL  Stone, 
brother  to  the  late  Col.  Stone  of  the  N.  Y.  Commercial  Advertiser.  The  new 
comer  boarded  in  Mr.  Stone's  family,  by  whom  he  was  well  esteemed  for  his 
boyish  integrity ;  aad  Mr.  S.  on  examination  found  him  better  skilled  in  Eng 
lish  grammar,  even  at  that  early  age,  than  were  the  majority  of  school  teach 
ers  in  those  times.  His  superior  intelligence  also  strongly  commended 
him  to  the  notice  of  Amos  Bliss,  Esq.,  one  of  the  firm  already  mentioned, 
th«n  and  now  a  highly-respectable  merchant  of  East  Poultney,  who  has 
marked  with  pride  and  pleasure  every  successive  step  of  the  '  Westhaven  boy,' 
from  that  day  to  this. 

5 


08  APPRENTICESHIP. 

IE  consequence  of  the  change  of  proprietors,  editors  and  other  things  per 
taining  to  the  management  of  the  Spectator  office,  Horace  had,  during  the 
term  of  his  apprenticeship,  about  as  many  opportunities  of  '  boarding  round,' 
as  ordinarily  fall  to  the  lot  of  a  country  schoolmaster.  In  1827,  he  boarded 
at  the  •  Eagle  tavern,'  which  was  then  kept  by  Mr.  Harlow  Hosford,  and  was 
the  head-quarters  of  social  and  fashionable  life  in  that  pleasant  old  village. 
There  the  balls  and  village  parties  were  had,  there  the  oysters  suppers  came 
off,  and  there  the  lawyers,  politicians  and  village  oracles  nightly  congregated. 
Horace  was  no  hand  for  ordinary  boyish  sports ;  the  rough  and  tumble  games 
of  wrestling,  running,  etc.,  he  had  no  relish  for ;  but  he  was  a  diligent  student 
in  his  leisure  hours,  and  eagerly  read  everything  in  the  way  of  books  and 
papers  that  he  could  lay  his  hands  on.  And  it  was  curious  to  see  what  a  power 
of  mental  application  he  had — a  power  which  enabled  him,  seated  in  the  bar 
room,  (where,  perhaps,  a  dozen  people  were  in  earnest  conversation,)  to  pursue 
undisturbed  the  reading  of  his  favorite  book,  whatever  it  might  be,  with  evi 
dently  as  close  attention  and  as  much  satisfaction  as  if  he  had  been  seated 
alone  in  his  chamber. 

If  there  ever  was  a  self-made  man,  this  same  Horace  Greeley  is  one,  for 
he  had  neither  wealthy  or  influential  friends,  collegiate  or  academic  educa 
tion,  nor  anything  to  start  him  in  the  world,  save  his  own  native  good  sense, 
an  unconquerable  love  of  study,  and  a  determination  to  win  his  way  by  his 
own  efforts.  Ho  had,  however,  a  natural  aptitude  for  arithmetical  calcula 
tions,  and  could  easily  surpass,  in  his  boyhood,  most  persons  of  his  age  in  *ha 
facility  and  accuracy  of  his  demonstrations;  and  his  knowledge  of  grammar 
has  been  already  noted.  He  early  learned  to  observe  and  remember  poli'icaJ 
statistics,  and  the  leading  men  and  measures  of  the  political  parties,  the  va 
rious  and  multitudinous  candidates  for  governor  and  Congress,  not  only  ?n  * 
single  State,  but  in  many,  and  finally  in  all  the  States,  together  with  the  1"- 
oation  and  vote  of  this,  that,  and  the  other  congressional  district?,  (whig,  dem 
ocratic  and  what  not,)  at  all  manner  of  elections.  These  things  he  rapidly  and 
easily  mastered,  and  treasured  in  his  capacious  memory,  till  we  venture  to  sa^ 
he  has  few  if  any  equals  at  this  time,  in  this  particular  department,  in  thi* 
or  any  other  country.  I  never  knew  but  one  man  who  approached  him  in  this 
particular,  and  that  was  Edwin  Williams,  compiler  of  the  N.  Y.  State  Reg 
ister. 

Another  letter  from  the  same  friend  contains  information  still 
more  valuable.  "Judging,"  he  writes,  "from  what  I  do  certainty 
know  of  him,  I  can  say  that  few  young  men  of  my  acquaintance 
grew  up  with  so  much  freedom  from  ever)  tiling  of  a  vicious  and 
corrupting  nature — so  strong  a  resolution  to  study  everything  IP 
the  way  of  useful  knowledge — and  such  a  quick  and  clear  percep 


POLITICS    OF   THE    TIME.  99 

tion  of  the  queer  and  humorous,  whether  in  print  or  in  actual  life. 
His  love  of  the  poets — Byron,  Shakspeare,  etc.,  discovered  itself  ia 
boyhood — and  often  have  Greeley  and  I  strolled  off  into  the  woods, 
of  a  warm  day,  with  a  volume  of  Byron  or  Campbell  in  our  pockets, 
and  reclining  in  some  shady  place,  read  it  off  to  each  other  by  the 
hour.  In  this  way,  I  got  such  a  hold  of  'Childe  Harold,'  the  'Pleas 
ures  of  Hope,'  and  other  favorite  poems,  that  considerable  portions 
have  remained  ever  since  in  my  memory.  Byron's  apostrophe  to 
the  Ocean,  and  some  things  in  the  [4th]  canto  relative  to  the  men 
and  monuments  of  ancient  Italy,  were,  if  I  mistake  not,  his  special 
favorites — also  the  famous  description  of  the  great  conflict  at 
Waterloo.  '  Mazeppa '  was  also  a  marked  favorite.  And  for  many 
of  Mrs.  Hemans'  poems  he  had  a  deep  admiration." 

The  letter  concludes  with  an  honest  burst  of  indignation; 
"  Knowing  Horace  Greeley  as  I  do  and  have  done  for  thirty  years, 
knowing  his  integrity,  purity,  and  generosity,  I  can  tell  you  one 
thing,  and  that  is,  that  the  contempt  with  which  I  regard  the  slan 
ders  of  certain  papers  with  respect  to  his  conduct,  and  character,  is 
quite  inexpressible.  There  is  doubtless  a  proper  excuse  for  the  con 
duct  of  lunatics,  mad  dogs,  and  rattlesnakes;  but  I  know  of  no  decent, 
just,  or  reasonable  apology  for  such  meanness  (it  is  a  hard  word,  but 
a  very  expressive  one)  as  the  presses  alluded  to  have  exhibited." 

Horace  came  to  Poultney,  an  ardent  politician ;  and  the  events 
which  occurred  during  his  apprenticeship  were  not  calculated  to 
moderate  his  zeal,  or  weaken  his  attachment  to  the  party  he  had 
chosen.  John  Quincy  Adams  was  president,  Calhoun  was  vice- 
president,  Henry  Clay  was  secretory  of  State.  It  was  one  of  the 
best  and  ablest  administrations  that  had  ever  ruled  in  Washington ; 
and  the  most  unpopular  one.  It  is  among  the  inconveniences  of 
universal  suffrage,  that  the  party  which  comes  before  the  country 
with  the  most  taking  popular  CRY  is  the  party  which  is  likefiest  to 
win.  During  the  existence  of  this  administration,  the  Opposition 
had  a  variety  of  popular  Cries  which  were  easy  to  vociferate,  and 
well  adapted  to  impose  on  the  unthinking,  i.  e.  the  majority. 
'Adams  had  not  been  elected  by  the  people.'  'Adams  had  gained 
the  presidency  by  a  corrupt  bargain  with  Henry  Clay.'  '  Adams 
was  lavish  of  the  public  money.'  But  of  all  the  Cries  of  the  time, 
Hurrah  for  Jackson '  was  the  most  effective.  Jackson  was  a  man 


100  APPRENTICESHIP. 

of  the  people.  Jackson  was  the  hero  of  New  Orleans  i.nd  the  cou« 
queror  of  Florida.  Jackson  was  pledged  to  retrenchment  and 
reform.  Against  vociferation  of  this  kind,  what  availed  the  fact, 
evident,  incontrovertible,  that  the  affairs  of  the  government  were 
conducted  with  dignity,  judgment  and  moderation?— that  the  conn- 
try  enjoyed  prosperity  at  home,  and  the  respect  of  the  world  ? — 
that  the  claims  of  American  citizens  against  foreign  governments 
were  prosecuted  with  diligence  and  success  ? — that  treaties  highly 
advantageous  to  American  interests  were  negotiated  with  leading 
nations  in  Europe  and  South  America? — that  the  public  revenue 
was  greater  than  it  had  ever  been  before  ? — that  the  resources  of 
the  country  were  made  accessible  by  a  liberal  system  of  internal 
improvement  ? — that,  nevertheless,  there  were  surplus  millions  in 
the  treasury  ? — that  the  administration  nobly  disdained  to  employ 
the  executive  patronage  as  a  means  of  securing  its  continuance  in 
power? — All  this  availed  nothing.  '  Hurrah  for  Jackson '  carried  the 
day.  The  Last  of  the  Gentlemen  of  the  Revolutionary  school  re 
tired.  The  era  of  wire-pulling  began.  That  deadly  element  was 
introduced  into  our  political  system  which  rendered  it  so  exquisitely 
vicious,  that  thenceforth  it  worked  to  corruption  by  an  irresistible 
necessity !  It  is  called  Rotation  in  Office.  It  is  embodied  in  the 
maxim,  '  To  the  victors  belong  the  spoils.'  It  has  made  the  word 
office-holder  synonymous  with  the  word  meak.  It  has  thronged  the 
capital  with  greedy  sycophants.  It  has  made  politics  a  game  of 
cunning,  with  enough  of  chance  in  it  to  render  it  interesting  to  the 
low  crew  that  play.  It  lias  made  the  president  a  pawn  with  which 
to  make  the  first  move — a  puppet  to  keep  the  people  amused  while 
their  pockets  are  picked.  It  has  excluded  from  the  service  of  the 
State  nearly  every  man  of  ability  and  worth,  and  enabled  bloated 
and  beastly  demagogues,  without  a  ray  of  talent,  without  a  senti 
ment  "of  magnanimity,  illiterate,  vulgar,  insensible  to  shame,  to  exert 
a  power  in  this  republic,  which  its  greatest  statesmen  in  their 
greatest  days  never  wielded. 

In  the  loud  contentions  of  the  period,  the  reader  can  easily  be 
lieve  that  our  argumentative  apprentice  took  an  intense  interest;. 
The  village  of  East  Poultney  cast  little  more — if  jiny  more — than 
half  a  dozen  votes  for  Jackson,  but  how  much  this  result  was  owing 
\o  the  efforts  of  Horace  Greeley  cannot  now  be  ascertained.  All 


THE    ANTI-MASON    EXCITEMENT.  101 

agree  that  he  contributed  his  full  share  to  the  general  babble  which 
the  election  of  a  President  provokes.  During  the  whole  adminis 
tration  of  Adams,  the  revision  of  the  tariff  with  a  view  to  the  bet 
ter  protection  of  American  manufactures  was  among  the  most 
prominent  topics  of  public  and  private  discussion. 

It  was  about  the  year  1827  that  the  Masonic  excitement  arose 
Military  men  tell  us  that  the  bravest  regiments  are  subject  to  panic. 
Regiments  that  bear  upon  their  banners  the  most  honorable  distinc 
tions,  whose  colors  are  tattered  with  the  bullets  of  a  hundred 
fights,  will  on  a  sudden  falter  in  the  charge,  and  fly,  like  a  pack  of 
cowards,  from  a  danger  which  a  pack  of  cowards  might  face  with 
out  ceasing  to  be  thought  cowards.  Similar  to  these  causeless  and 
irresistible  panics  of  war  are  those  frenzies  of  fear  and  fury  mingled 
which  sometimes  come  over  the  mind  of  a  nation,  and  make  it  for 
a  time  incapable  of  reason  and  regardless  of  justice.  Such  seems 
to  have  been  the  nature  of  the  anti-Masonic  mania  which  raged  in 
the  Northern  States  from  the  year  1827. 

A  man  named  Morgan,  a  printer,  had  published,  for  gain,  a  book 
in  which  the  harmless  secrets  of  the  Order  of  Free  Masons,  of  which 
he  was  a  member,  were  divulged.  Public  curiosity  caused  the  book 
to  have  an  immense  sale.  Soon  after  its  publication,  Morgan  an 
nounced  another  volume  which  was  to  reveal  unimagined  horrors  ; 
but,  before  the  book  appeared,  Morgan  disappeared,  and  neither 
ever  came  to  light.  Now  arose  the  question,  What  became  of  Mor 
gan  ?  and  it  rent  the  nation,  for  a  time,  into  two  imbittered  and 
angry  factions.  "  Morgan !"  said  the  Free  Masons,  "  that  perjured 
traitor,  died  and  was  buried  in  the  natural  and  ordinary  fashion." 
"Morgan!"  said  the  anti-Masons,  "that  martyred  patriot,  was  drag 
ged  from  his  home  by  Masonic  ruffians,  taken  in  the  dead  of  night 
to  the  shores  of  the  Niagara  river,  murdered,  and  thrown  into  the 
rapids."  It  is  impossible  for  any  one  to  conceive  the  utter  delirium 
into  which  the  people  in  some  parts  of  the  country  were  thrown  by 
the  agitation  of  this  subject.  Books  were  written.  Papers  were 
established.  Exhibitions  were  got  up,  in  which  the  Masonic  cere 
monies  were  caricatured  or  imitated.  Families  were  divided.  Fa 
thers  disinherited  their  sons,  and  sons  forsook  their  fathers.  Elec 
tions  were  influenced,  not  town  and  county  elections  merely,  but 
State  and  national  elections.  There  were  Masonic  candidates  and 


102  APPRENTICESHIP. 

anti-Masonic  candidates  in  every  election  in  the  Northern  States 
for  at  least  two  years  after  Morgan  vanished.  Hundreds  of  Lodges 
bowed  to  the  storm,  sent  in  their  charters  to  the  central  authority, 
and  voluntarily  ceased  to  exist.  There  are  families  now,  about  the 
country,  in  which  Masonry  is  a  forbidden  topic,  because  its  intro 
duction  would  revive  the  old  quarrel,  and  turn  the  peaceful  tea-table 
into  a  scene  of  hot  and  interminable  contention.  There  are  still  old 
ladies,  male  and  female,  about  the  country,  who  will  tell  you  with 
grim  gravity  that,  if  you  trace  up  Masonry,  through  all  its  Orders, 
till  you  come  to  the  grand,  tip-top,  Head  Mason  of  the  world,  you 
will  discover  that  that  dread  individual  and  the  Chief  of  the  Society . 
of  Jesuits  are  one  and  the  same  Person ! 

I  have  been  tempted  to  use  the  word  ridiculous  in  connection 
with  this  affair;  and  looking  back  upon  it,  at  the  distance  of  a 
quarter  of  a  century,  ridiculous  seems  a  proper  word  to  apply  to  it 
But  it  did  not  seem  ridiculous  then.  It  had,  at  least,  a  serious  side. 
It  was  believed  among  the  anti-Masons  that  the  Masons  were  bound 
to  protect  one  another  in  doing  injustice  ;  even  the  commission  of 
treason  and  murder  did  not,  it  was  said,  exclude  a  man  from  the 
shelter  of  his  Lodge.  It  was  alleged  that  a  Masonic  jury  dared  not, 
or  would  not,  condemn  a  prisoner  who,  after  the  fullest  proof  of  his 
guilt  had  been  obtained,  made  the  Masonic  sign  of  distress.  It  was 
asserted  that  a  judge  regarded  the  oath  which  made  him  a  Free 
Mason  as  more  sacred  and  more  binding  than  that  which  admitted 
him  to  the  bench.  It  is  in  vain,  said  the  anti-Masons,  for  one  of  us 
to  seek  justice  against  a  Mason,  for  a  jury  cannot  be  obtained  with 
out  its  share  of  Masonic  members,  and  a  court  cannot  be  found 
without  its  Masonic  judge. 

Our  apprentice  embraced  the  anti-Masonic  side  of  this  contro 
versy,  and  embraced  it  warmly.  It  was  natural  that  he  should. 
It  was  inevitable  that  he  should.  And  for  the  next  two  or  three 
years  he  expended  more  breath  in  denouncing  the  Order  of  the 
Free-Masons,  than  upon  any  other  subject — perhaps  than  all  other 
subjects  put  together.  To  this  day  secret  societies  are  his  special 
aversion. 

But  we  must  hasten  on.  Horace  had  soon  learned  his  trade.  He 
became  the  best  hand  in  the  office,  and  rendered  important  assist- 
arice  in  editing  the  paper.  Some  numbers  were  almost  entirely  his 


INVENTORY    OF    HIS   POSSESSIONS.  .  103 

tvork.  But  there  was  ill-luck  about  the  little  establishment.  Several 
times,  as  we  have  seen,  it  changed  proprietors,  but  none  of  them 
could  make  it  prosper;  and,  at  length,  in  the  month  of  June,  1830, 
che  second  month  of  the  apprentice's  fifth  year,  the  Northern 
Spectator  was  discontinued ;  the  printing-office  was  broken  up,  and 
the  apprentice,  released  from  his  engagement,  became  his  own  mas 
ter,  free  to  wander  whithersoever  he  could  pay  his  passage,  and  to 
work  for  whomsoever  would  employ  him. 

His  possessions  at  this  crisis  were — a  knowledge  of  the  art  of 
printing,  an  extensive  and  very  miscellaneous  library  in  his  mem 
ory,  a  wardrobe  that  could  be  stuffed  into  a  pocket,  twenty  dollars 
in  cash,  and — a  sore  leg.  The  article  last  named  played  too  serious 
a  part  in  the  history  of  its  proprietor,  not  to  be  mentioned  in  the 
inventory  of  his  property.  He  had  injured  his  leg  a  year  before  in 
stepping  from  a  box,  and  it  troubled  him,  more  or  less,  for  three 
years,  swelling  occasionally  to  four  times  its  natural  size,  and  oblig 
ing  him  to  stand  at  his  work,  with  the  leg  propped  up  in  a  most 
horizontal  and  uncomfortable  position.  It  was  a  tantalizing  feature 
of  the  case  that  he  could  walk  without  much  difficulty,  but  stand 
ing  was  torture.  As  a  printer,  he  had  no  particular  occasion  to 
walk  ;  and  by  standing  he  was  to  gain  his  subsistence. 

Horace  Greeley  was  no  longer  a  Boy.  His  figure  and  the  ex 
pression  of  his  countenance  were  still  singularly  youthful ;  but  he 
was  at  the  beginning  of  his  twentieth  year,  and  he  was  henceforth 
to  confront  the  world  as  a  man.  So  far,  his  life  had  been,  upon  the 
whole,  peaceful,  happy  and  fortunate,  and  he  had  advanced  towards 
his  object  without  interruption,  and  with  sufficient  rapidity.  His 
constitution,  originally  weak,  Labor  and  Temperance  had  rendered 
capable  of  great  endurance.  His  mind,  originally  apt  and  active, 
incessant  reading  had  stored  with  much  that  is  most  valuable 
among  the  discoveries,  the  thoughts,  and  the  fancies  of  past  genera 
tions.  In  the  conflicts  of  the  Debating  Society,  the  printing-office, 
and  the  tavern,  he  had  exercised  his  powers,  and  tried  the  correct 
ness  of  his  opinions.  If  his  knowledge  was  incomplete,  if  there 
were  wide  domains  of  knowledge,  of  which  he  had  little  more  than 
heard,  yet  what  he  did  know  he  knew  well ;  he  had  learned  it,  not 
as  a  task,  but  because  be  wanted  to  know  it ;  it  partook  of  tho 
vitality  of  his  own  mind ;  it  was  his  own,  and  he  could  use  it. 


1 04  APPREN  TICESHIP. 

If  there  had  been  a  PEOPLE'S  COLLEGE,  to  which  the  new  eman 
cipated  apprentice  could  have  gone,  and  where,  earning  his  subsist 
ence  by  the  exercise  of  his  trade,  he  could  have  spent  half  of  each 
day  for  the  next  two  years  of  his  life  in  the  systematic  study  of 
Language,  History  and  Science,  under  the  guidance  of  men  able  to 
guide  him  aright,  under  the  influence  of  women  capable  of  attracting 
his  regard,  and  worthy  of  it — it  had  been  well.  But  there  was  not 
then,  and  there  is  not  now,  an  institution  that  meets  the  want  and 
the  need  of  such  as  he. 

At  any  moment  there  are  ten  thousand  young  men  and  women 
in  this  country,  strong,  intelligent,  and  poor,  who  are  about  to  go 
forth  into  the  world  ignorant,  who  would  gladly  go  forth  instruct 
ed,  if  they  could  get  knowledge,  and  earn  it  as  they  get  it,  by  the 
labor  of  their  hands.  They  are  the  sons  and  daughters  of  our  farm 
ers  and  mechanics.  They  are  the  very  elite  among  the  young 
people  of  the  nation.  There  is  talent,  of  all  kinds  and  all  degrees, 
among  them — talent,  that  is  the  nation's  richest  possession — talent, 
that  could  bless  and  glorify  the  nation.  Should  there  not  be — can 
there  not  be,  somewhere  in  this  broad  land,  a  UNIVERSITY-TOWN — 
where  all  trades  could  be  carried  on,  all  arts  practiced,  all  knowl 
edge  accessible,  to  which  those  who  have  a  desire  to  become  ex 
cellent  in  their  calling,  and  those  who  have  an  aptitude  for  art,  and 
those  who  have  fallen  in  love  with  knowledge,  could  accomplish 
the  wish  of  their  hearts  without  losing  their  independence,  without 
becoming  paupers,  or  prisoners,  or  debtors  ?  Surely  such  a  University 
for  the  People  is  not  an  impossibility.  To  found  such  an  institu 
tion,  or  assemblage  of  institutions — to  find  out  the  conditions  upon 
which  it  could  exist  and  prosper — were  not  an  easy  task.  A  Com 
mittee  could  not  do  it,  nor  a  'Board,'  nor  a  Legislature.  It  is 
an  enterprise  for  ONE  MAN— a  man  of  boundless  disinterestedness, 
of  immense  administrative  and  constructive  talent,  fertile  in  ex 
pedients,  courageous,  persevering,  physically  strong,  and  morally 
great — a  man  born  for  his  work,  and  devoted  to  it  '  with  a  quiet, 
deep  enthusiasm1.  Give  suoh  a  man  the  indispensable  land,  and 
twenty-five  years,  and  the  People's  College  would  be  a  dream  no 
more,  but  a  triumphant  and  writable  reality;  and  the  founder 
thereof  would  have  done  a  deed  compared  with  which,  either 


A  PEOPLE'S  COLLEGE.  105 

for  its  difficulty  or  for  its  results,  such  triumphs  as  those  of  Traf 
algar  and  Waterloo  would  not  be  worthy  of  mention. 

There  have  been  self-sustaining  monasteries !  Will  there  never 
be  self-sustaining  colleges?  Is  there  anything  like  an  inherent 
impossibility  in  a  thousand  men  and  women,  in  the  fresh  strength 
of  youth,  capable  of  a  just  subordination,  working  together,  each 
for  all  and  all  for  each,  with  the  assistance  of  steam,  machinery, 
and  a  thousand  fertile  acres — earning  a  subsistence  by  a  few  hours' 
labor  per  day,  and  securing,  at  least,  half  their  time  for  the  acqui 
sition  of  the  art,  or  the  language,  or  the  science  which  they  prefer  ? 
I  think  not.  We  are  at  present  a  nation  of  ignoramuses,  our  ig 
norance  rendered  only  the  more  conspicuous  and  misleading,  by  the 
faint  intimations  of  knowledge  which  we  acquire  at  our  schools. 
Are  we  to  remain  such  for  ever  ? 

But  if  Horace  Greeley  derived  no  help  from  schools  and  teachers, 
he  received  no  harm  from  them.  He  finished  his  apprenticeship, 
an  uncontaminated  young  man,  with  the  means  of  independence 
at  his  finger-ends,  ashamed  of  no  honest  employment,  of  no  decent 
habitation,  of  no  cleanly  garb.  "  There  are  unhappy  times,"  says 
Mr.  Carlyle,  "  in  the  world's  history,  when  he  that  is  least  educated 
will  chiefly  have  to  say  that  he  is  least  perverted;  and,  with  the 
multitude  of  false  eye-glasses,  convex,  concave,  green,  or  even 
yellow,  has  not  lost  the  natural  use  of  his  eyes.'1'1  "  How  were  it," 
he  asks,  u  if  we  surmised,  that  for  a  man  gifted  with  natural  vigor, 
with  a  man's  character  to  be  developed  in  him,  more  especially  if 
in  the  way  of  literature,  as  thinker  and  writer,  it  is  actually,  in 
these  strange  days,  no  special  misfortune  to  be  trained  up  among 
the  uneducated  classes,  and  not  among  the  educated ;  but  rather, 
of  the  two  misfortunes,  the  smaller?"  And  again,  he  observes, 
"  The  grand  result  of  schooling  is  a  mind  with  just  vision  to  discern, 
with  free  force  to  do ;  the  grand  schoolmaster  is  PRACTICE." 

5* 


CHAPTER  VII. 

HE   WANDERS. 


»  >ou;:uey—  His  first  Overcoat—  Home  to  his  Father's  Log  House—  Ranges 
Ae  cou..hj  for  work—  The  Sore  Leg  Cured—  Gets  Employment,  but  little  Money— 
AuOuisneu  Ine  Draught-Players—  Goes  to  Erie,  Pa.—  Interview  witL  an  Editor— 
Bbco.jes  aJoumejinanin  the  Office—  Description  of  Erie—  The  Lake—  His  Generos 
ity  to  his  Father  His  New  Clothes—  No  more  work  at  Erie—  Starts  for  N7ew 
York. 

tk  WELL,  Horace,  and  where  are  you  going  now  ?"  asked  the  kind 
landlady  of  the  tavern,  as  Horace,  a  few  days  after  the  closing  of 
the  printing-office,  appeared  on  the  piazza,  equipped  for  the  road  — 
i.  «.,  with  his  jacket  on,  and  with  his  bundle  and  his  stick  in  his 
hand. 

"  I  am  going,"  was  the  prompt  and  sprightly  answer,  "  to  Penn 
sylvania,  to  see  iny  father,  and  there  I  shall  stay  till  my  leg  gets 
well." 

With  these  words,  Horace  laid  down  the  bundle  and  the  stick, 
and  took  a  seat  for  the  last  time  on  that  piazza,  the  scene  of  many 
a  peaceful  triumph,  where,  as  Political  Gazetteer,  he  had  often  gireji 
the  information  that  he  alone,  of  all  the  town,  could  give  ;  where, 
as  political  partisan,  he  had  often  brought  an  antagonist  to  extrem 
ities  ;  where,  as  oddity,  he  had  often  fixed  the  gaze  and  twisted  the 
neck  of  the  passing  peddler. 

.  And  was  there  no  demonstration  of  feeling  at>  the  departure  of 
BO  distinguished  a  personage?  There  was.  But  it  did  not  take 
the  form  of  a  silver  dinner-service,  nor  of  a  gold  tea  ditto,  nor  of  a 
piece  of  plate,  nor  even  of  a  gold  pen,  nor  yet  of  a  series  of  reso 
lutions.  While  Horace  sat  on  the  piazza,  talking  with  his  old 
friends,  who  gathered  around  him,  a  meeting  of  two  individuals 
was  held  in  the  corner  of  the  bar-room.  They  were  the  landlord 
and  one  of  his  boarders  ;  and  the  subject  of  their  deliberations 
were,  an  old  brown  overcoat  belonging  to  the  latter.  The  land 
lord  had  the  floo^  and  his  speed  was  to  the  following  purport  :— 


[YOUNG  GREELEY'S  ARRIVAL  IN  NEW  YORK.] 


HORACE    LEAVES    POULTNEY.  107 

"  He  felt  like  doing  something  for  Horace  before  he  went.  Horace 
was  an  entirely  unspeakable  person.  He  had  lived  a  long  time  in 
the  house;  he  had  never  given  any  trouble,  and  we  feel  for  him 
as  for  our  own  son.  Now,  there  is  that  brown  over-coat  of  .yours. 
It 's  cold  on  the  canal,  all  the  summer,  in  the  mornings  and  even 
ings.  Horace  is  poor  and  his  father  is  poor.  You  are  owing  me 
a  little,  as  much  as  the  old  coat  is  worth,  and  what  I  say  is,  let  us 
give  the  poor  fellow  the  overcoat,  and  call  our  account  squared." 
This  feeling  oration  was  received  with  every  demonstration  of  ap 
proval,  and  the  proposition  was  carried  into  effect  forthwith.  The 
landlady  gave  him  a  pocket  Bible.  In  a  few  minutes  more,  Horace 
rose,  put  his  stick  through  his  little  red  bundle,  and  both  over  hia 
shoulder,  took  the  overcoat  upon  his  other  arm,  said  *  Good-by,' 
to  his  friends,  promised  to  write  as  soon  as  he  was  settled  again, 
and  set  off  upon  his  long  journey.  His  good  friends  of  the  tavern 
followed  him  with  their  eyes,  until  a  turn  of  the  road  hid  the  bent 
and  shambling  figure  from  their  sight,  and  then  they  turned  away 
to  praise  him  and  to  wish  him  well.  Twenty-five  years  have 
passed ;  and,  to  this  hour,  they  do  not  tell  the  tale  of  his  departure 
without  a  certain  swelling  of  the  heart,  without  a  certain  glistening 
of  the  softer  pair  of  eyes. 

It  was  a  fine,  cool,  breezy  morning  in  the  month  of  June,  1830. 
Nature  had  assumed  those  robes  of  brilliant  green  which  she  wears 
only  in  June,  and  welcomed  the  wanderer  forth  with  that  heavenly 
smile  which  plays  upon  her  changeful  countenance  only  when  she 
is  attired  in  her  best.  Deceptive  smile !  The  forests  upon  those 
hills  of  hilly  Rutland,  brimrifing  with  foliage,  concealed  their  granite 
ribs,  their  chasms,  their  steeps,  their  precipices,  their  morasses,  and 
the  reptiles  that  lay  coiled  among  them;  but  they  were  there.  So 
did  the  alluring  aspect  of  the  world  hide  from  the  wayfarer  the 
struggle,  the  toil,  the  danger  that  await  the  man  who  goes  out  frora 
his  seclusion  to  confront  the  world  ALONE — the  world  of  which  he 
knows  nothing  except  by  hearsay,  that  cares  nothing  for  him,  and 
takes  no  note  of  his  arrival.  The  present  wayfarer  was  destined  to 
be  quite  alone  in  his  conflict  with  the  world,  and  he  was  destined  to 
wrestle  with  it  for  many  years  before  it  yielded  him  anything  more 
than  a  show  of  submission.  How  prodigal  of  help  is  the  Devil  to 
liia  scheming  and  guileful  servants !  But  the  Powers  Celestial— 


108  HE    WANDERS. 

they  love  their  chosen  too  wisely  and  too  well  to  diminish  by  one 
care  the  burthen  that  makes  them  strong,  to  lessen  by  one  pang  the 
agony  that  makes  them  good,  to  prevent  one  mistake  of  the  folly 
that  makes  them  wise. 

Light  of  heart  and  step,  the  traveler  walked  on.  In  the  after 
noon  he  reached  Comstock's  Fording,  fourteen  miles  from  Poultney  ; 
thence,  partly  on  canal-boat  and  partly  on  foot,  he  went  to  Schenec- 
tady,  and  there  took  a  l  line-boat'  on  the  Erie  Canal.  A  week  of 
tedium  in  the  slow  line-boat — a  walk  of  a  hundred  miles  through  the 
woods,  and  he  had  reached  his  father's  log-house.  He  arrived  late  in 
the  evening.  The  last  ten  miles  of  the  journey  he  performed  after 
dark,  guided,  when  he  could  catch  a  glimpse  of  it  through  the 
dense  foliage,  by  a  star.  The  journey  required  at  that  time  about 
twelve  days  :  it  is  now  done  in  eighteen  hours.  It  cost  Horace 
Greeley  about  seven  dollars ;  the  present  cost  by  railroad  is  eleven 
dollars ;  distance,  six  hundred  miles. 

He  found  his  father  and  brother  transformed  into  backwoodsmen. 
Their  little  log-cabin  stood  in  the  midst  of  a  narrow  clearing,  which 
was  covered  with  blackened  stumps,  and  smoked  with  burning  tim 
ber.  Forests,  dense  and  almost  unbroken,  heavily  timbered,  abound 
ing  in  wolves  and  every  other  description  of  *  varmint,'  extended  a 
day's  journey  in  every  direction,  and  in  some  directions  many  days' 
journey.  The  country  was  then  so  wild  and  '  new,'  that  a  hunter  would 
sell  a  man  a  deer  before  it  was  shot ;  and  appointing  the  hour  when, 
and  the  spot  where,  the  buyer  was  to  call  for  his  game,  would  have 
it  ready  for  him  as  punctually  as  though  he  had  ordered  it  at  Fulton 
market.  The  wolves  were  so  bold,  that  their  bowlings  could  be 
heard  at  the  house  as  they  roamed  about  in  packs  in  search  of  the 
sheep ;  and  the  solitary  camper-out  could  hear  them  breathe  and  see 
their  eye-balls  glare,  as  they  prowled  about  his  smoldering  fire. 
Mr.  Greeley,  who  had  brought  from  Vermont  a  fondness  for  rearing 
fcheep,  tried  to  continue  that  branch  of  rural  occupation  in  the  wil 
derness  ;  but  after  the  wolves,  in  spite  of  his  utmost  care  and  pre 
caution,  had  killed  a  hundred  sheep  for  him,  he  gave  up  the  at 
tempt.  But  it  was  a  level  and  a  very  fertile  region — *  varmint'  al 
ways  select  a  good  '  location' — and  it  has  since  been  subdued  into  a 
beautiful  land  of  grass  and  woods. 

Horace    staid  at    home  foi  several  weeks,  assisting  his  father, 


GETS   EMPLOYMENT.  10& 

fishing  occasionally,  and  otherwise  amusing  himself;  while  his  good 
mother  assiduously  nursed  the  sore  leg.  It  healed  too  slowly  for  its 
impatient  proprietor,  who  had  learned  'to  labor,'  not  'to  wait;' 
and  so,  one  morning,  he  walked  over  to  Jamestown,  a  town  twenty 
miles  distant,  where  a  newspaper  was  struggling  to  get  published, 
and  applied  for  work.  Work  he  obtained.  It  was  very  freely 
given  ;  but  at  the  end  of  the  week  the  workman  received  a  promise 
to  pay,  but  no  payment.  He  waited  and  worked  four  days  longer, 
and  discovering  by  that  time  that  there  was  really  no  money  to  be 
had  or  hoped  for  in  Jamestown,  he  walked  home  again,  as  poor  as 
before. 

And  now  the  damaged  leg  began  to  swell  again  prodigiously ;  at 
one  time  it  was  as  large  below  the  knee  as  a  demijohn.  Out  off  from 
other  employment,  Horace  devoted  all  his  attention  to  the  unfortu 
nate  member,  but  without  result.  He  heard  about  this  time  of  a 
famous  doctor  who  lived  in  that  town  of  Pennsylvania  which 
exults  in  the  singular  name  of  'North-East,'  distant  twenty-five 
miles  from  his  father's  clearing.  To  him,  as  a  last  resort,  though 
the  family  could  ill  afford  the  trifling  expense,  Horace  went,  and 
staid  with  him  a  month.  "  You  don't  drink  liquor,"  were  the 
doctor's  first  words  as  he  examined  the  sore,  "  if  you  did,  you  'd 
have  a  bad  leg  of  it."  The  patient  thought  he  had  a  bad  leg  of  it, 
without  drinking  liquor.  The  doctor's  treatment  was  skillful,  and 
finally  successful.  Among  other  remedies,  he  subjected  the  limb  to 
the  action  of  electricity,  and  from  that  day  the  cure  began.  The 
patient  left  North-East  greatly  relieved,  and  though  the  leg  was 
weak  and  troublesome  for  many  more  months,  yet  it  gradually  re 
covered,  the  wound  subsiding  at  length  into  a  long  red  scar. 

He  wandered,  next,  in  an  easterly  direction,  in  search  of  employ 
ment,  and  found  it  in  the  village  of  Lodi,  fifty  miles  off,  in  Cata- 
raugus  county,  New  York.  At  Lodi,  he  seems  to  have  cherished 
a  hope  of  being  able  to  remain  awhile  and  earn  a  little  money. 
He  wrote  to  his  friends  in  Poultney  describing  the  paper  on  which 
he  worked,  "  as  a  Jackson  paper,  a  forlorn  affair,  else  I  would  have 
sent  you  a  few  numbers."  One  of  his  letters  written  from  Lodi  to 
a  friend  in  Vermont,  contains  a  passage  which  may  serve  to  shov? 
what  was  going  on  in  the  mind  of  the  printer  as  he  stood  at  the 
case  setting  up  Jacksonian  paragraphs.  "  You  are  aware  that  an 


110  HE    WANDERS. 

important  election  is  close  at  hand  in  this  State,  and  of  course,  a 
great  deal  of  interest  is  felt  in  the  result.  The  regular  Jacksonians 
imagine  that  they  will  be  able  to  elect  Throop  by  20,000  majority ; 
but  after  having  obtained  all  the  information  I  can,  I  give  it  as  my 
decided  opinion,  that  if  none  of  the  candidates  decline,  we  shall 
elect  Francis  Granger,  governor.  This  county  will  give  him  1000 
majority,  and  I  estimate  his  vote  in  the  State  at  125,000.  I  need 
not  inform  you  that  such  a  result  will  be  highly  satisfactory  to  your 
humble  servant,  H.  Greeley."  It  was  a  result,  however,  which  he 
had  not  the  satisfaction  of  contemplating.  The  confident  and  yet 
cautious  manner  of  the  passage  quoted  is  amusing  in  a  politician 
but  twenty  years  of  age. 

At  Lodi,  as  at  Jamestown,  our  roving  journeyman  found  work 
much  more  abundant  than  money.  Moreover,  he  was  in  the  camp 
of  the  enemy  ;  and  so  at  the  end  of  his  sixth  week,  he  again  took 
bundle  and  stick  and  marched  homeward,  with  very  little  more 
money  in  his  pocket  than  if  he  had  spent  his  time  in  idleness.  On  his 
way  home  he  fell  in  with  an  old  Poultney  friend  who  had  recently 
settled  in  the  wilderness,  and  Horace  arrived  in  time  to  assist  at 
die  '  warming '  of  the  new  cabin,  a  duty  which  he  performed  in  a 
way  that  covered  him  with  glory. 

In  the  course  of  the  evening,  a  draught-board  was  introduced, 
and  the  stranger  beat  in  swift  succession  half  a  dozen  of  the  best 
players  in  the  neighborhood.  It  happened  that  the  place  was  rather 
noted  for  its  skillful  draught- players,  and  the  game  was  played  in 
cessantly  at  private  houses  and  at  public.  To  be  beaten  in  so  scan 
dalous  a  manner  by  a  passing  stranger,  and  he  by  no  means  an 
ornamental  addition  to  an  evening  party,  and  young  enough  to  be 
the  son  of  some  of  the  vanquished,  nettled  them  not  a  little.  They 
challenged  the  victor  to  another  encounter  at  the  tavern  on  the  next 
evening.  The  challenge  was  accepted.  The  evening  arrived,  and 
there  was  a  considerable  gathering  to  witness  and  take  part  in  the 
struggle — among  the  rest,  a  certain  Joe  Wilson  who  had  been  spe 
cially  sent  for,  and  whom  no  one  had  ever  beaten,  since  he  came 
into  the  settlement.  The  great  Joe  was  held  in  reserve.  The  party 
of  the  previous  evening,  Horace  took  in  turn,  and  beat  with  ease. 
Other  players  tried  to  foil  his  'Yankee  tricks,'  but  were  themselves 
foiled.  The  reserve  was  brought  up.  Joe  Wilson  took  his  seat  at 


GOES    TO    ERIE,  PA.  Ill 

the  table.  He  played  his  deadliest,  pausing  long  before  he  hazarded 
a  move;  the  company  hanging  over  the  board,  hushed  and  anxious. 
They  were  not  kept  many  minutes  in  suspense ;  Joe  was  overthrown ; 
the  unornamental  stranger  was  the  conqueror.  Another  game — 
the  same  result.  Another  and  another  and  another ;  but  Joe  lost 
every  game.  Joseph,  however,  was  too  good  a  player  not  to  re 
spect  so  potent  an  antagonist,  and  he  and  all  the  party  behaved  well 
under  their  discomfiture.  The  board  was  laid  aside,  and  a  lively 
conversation  ensued,  which  was  continued  *  with  unabated  spirit  to 
a  late  hour.'  The  next  morning,  the  traveler  went  on  his  way,  leav 
ing  behind  him  a  most  distinguished  reputation  as  a  draught-player 
and  a  politician. 

He  remained  at  home  a  few  days,  and  then  set  out  again  on  his 
travels  in  search  of  some  one  who  could  pay  him  wages  for  his 
work.  He  took  a  '  bee  line '  through  the  woods  for  the  town  of 
Erie,  thirty  miles  off,  on  the  shores  of  the  great  lake.  He  had  ex 
hausted  the  smaller  towns ;  Erie  was  the  last  possible  move  in  that 
corner  of  the  board ;  and  upon  Erie  he  fixed  his  hopes.  There  were 
two  printing  offices,  at  that  time,  in  the  place.  It  was  a  town  of 
five  thousand  inhabitants,  and  of  extensive  lake  and  inland  trade. 

The  gentleman  still  lives  who  saw  the  weary  pedestrian  enter 
Erie,  attired  in  the  homespun,  abbreviated  and  stockingless  style 
with  which  the  reader  is  already  acquainted.  His  old  black  felt  hat 
slouched  down  over  his  shoulders  in  the  old  fashion.  The  red  cot 
ton  handkerchief  still  contained  his  wardrobe,  and  it  was  carried 
on  the  same  old  stick.  The  country  frequenters  of  Erie  were  then, 
and  are  still,  particularly  rustic  in  appearance ;  but  our  hero  seemed 
the  very  embodiment  and  incarnation  of  the  rustic  Principle  ;  and 
among  the  crowd  of  Pennsylvania  farmers  that  thronged  the  streets, 
he  swung  along,  pre-eminent  and  peculiar,  a  marked  person,  the 
observed  of  all  observers.  He,  as  was  his  wont,  observed  nobody, 
but  went  at  once  to  the  office  of  the  Erie  Gazette,  a  weekly  paper, 
published  then  and  still  by  Joseph  M.  Sterrett. 

UI  was  not,"  Judge  Sterrett  is  accustomed  to  relate,  "I  was  not 
in  the  printing  oifice  when  he  arrived.  I  came  in,  soon  after,  and 
saw  him  sitting  at  the  table  reading  the  newspapers,  and  so  absorbed 
in  them  that  he  paid  no  attention  to  my  entrance.  My  first  feeling 
wan  one  of  astonishment,  that  a  fellow  so  singularly  'green'  in  hla 


112  HE    WANDERS. 

appearance  should  be  reading,  and  above  all,  reading  so  intently 
I  looked  at  him  for  a  few  moments,  and  then,  finding  that  he  made 
no  movement  towards  acquainting  me  with  his  business,  I  took  up 
my  composing  stick  and  went  to  work.  He  continued  to  read  for 
twenty  minutes,  or  more ;  when  he  got  up,  and  coming  close  to  my 
case,  asked,  in  his  peculiar,  whining  voice, 

"  Do  you  want  any  help  in  the  printing  business  ?" 

"  Why,"  said  I,  running  my  eye  involuntarily  up  and  down  the 
extraordinary  figure,  "  did  you  ever  work  at  the  trade  ?" 

"  Yes,"  was  the  reply ;  "  I  worked  some  at  it  in  an  office  in  Ver 
mont,  and  I  should  be  willing  to  work  under  instruction,  if  you 
could  give  me  a  job." 

Now  Mr.  Sterrett  did  want  help  in  the  printing  business,  and 
could  have  given  him  a  job ;  but,  unluckily,  he  misinterpreted  this 
modest  reply.  He  at  once  concluded  that  the  timid  applicant  was 
a  runaway  apprentice;  and  runaway  apprentices  are  a  class  of  their 
fellow-creatures  to  whom  employers  cherish  a  common  and  decided 
aversion.  Without  communicating  his  suspicions,  he  merely  said 
that  he  had  no  occasion  for  further  assistance,  and  Horace,  without 
a  word,  left  the  apartment. 

A  similar  reception  and  the  same  result  awaited  him  at  the  other 
office ;  and  so  the  poor  wanderer  trudged  home  again,  not  in  the 
best  spirits. 

"Two  or  three  weeks  after  this  interview,"  continues  Judge 
Sterrett— he  is  a  judge,  I  saw  him  on  the  bench — "an  acquaint 
ance  of  mine,  a  farmer,  called  at  the  office,  and  inquired  if  I  want 
ed  a  journeyman.  I  did.  He  said  a  neighbor  of  his  had  a  son 
who  learned  the  printing  business  somewhere  Down  East,  and 
wanted  a  place.  *  What  sort  of  a  looking  fellow  is  he  ?'  said  I. 
He  described  him,  and  I  knew  at  once  that  he  was  my  supposed 
runaway  apprentice.  My  friend,  the  farmer,  gave  him  a  high  char 
acter,  however;  so  I  said,  'Send  him  along,' and  a  day  or  two 
after  along  he  came." 

The  terms  on  which  Horace  Greeley  entered  the  office  of  the 
Erie  Gazette  were  of  his  own  naming,  and  therefore  peculiar.  He 
would  do  the  best  lie  could,  he  said,  and  Mr.  Sterrett  might  pay 
him  what  he  (Mr.  Sterrett)  thought  he  had  earned.  He  had  only 
one  request  to  make,  and  that  was,  that  he  should  not  be  required 


THE    TOWN    OF   ERIE.  113 

tr  work  at  the  press,  unless  the  office  was  so  much  huiried  that  his 
services  in  that  department  could  not  be  dispensed  with.  He  had 
had  a  little  difficulty  with  his  leg,  and  press  work  rather  hurt  him 
than  otherwise.  The  bargain  included  the  condition  that  he  was  to 
hoard  at  Mr.  Sterrett's  house  ;  and  when  he  went  to  dinner  on  the 
day  of  his  arrival,  a  lady  of  the  family  expressed  her  opinion  of 
him  in  the  following  terms  : — "  So,  Mr.  Sterrett,  you  've  hired  that 
fellow  to  work  for  you,  have  you  ?  Well,  you  won't  keep  him  three 
days."  In  three  days  she  had  changed  her  opinion ;  and  to  this 
hour  the  good  lady  cannot  bring  herself  to  speak  otherwise  than 
kindly  of  him,  though  she  is  a  stanch  daughter  of  turbulent  Erie, 
and  ''must  say,  that  certain  articles  which  appeared  in  the  Tribune 
during  the  WAR,  did  really  seem  too  bad  from  one  who  had  been 
himself  an  Eriean.'  But  then,  '  he  gave  no  more  trouble  in  the 
house  than  if  he  had  n't  been  in  it.' 

Erie,  famous  in  the  Last  War  but  one,  as  the  port  whence  Com 
modore  Perry  sailed  out  to  victory — Erie,  famous  in  the  last  war 
of  all,  as  the  place  where  the  men,  except  a  traitorous  thirteen,  and 
the  women,  except  their  faithful  wives,  all  rose  as  ONE  MAN  against 
the  Railway  Trains,  saying,  in  the  tone  which  is  generally  described 
as  '  not  to  be  misunderstood ' :  "  Thus  far  shalt  thou  go  without 
stopping  for  refreshment,  and  no  farther,"  and  achieved  as  Break 
of  Gauge  men,  the  distinction  accorded  in  another  land  to  the 
Break  o'  Day  boys — Erie,  which  boasts  of  nine  thousand  inhabit 
ants,  and  aspires  to  become  the  Buffalo  of  Pennsylvania — Erie, 
which  already  has  business  enough  to  sustain  many  stores  wherein 
not  every  article  known  to  traffic  is  sold,  and  where  a  man  cannot 
consequently  buy  coat,  hat,  boots,  physic,  plough,  crackers,  grind 
stone  and  penknife,  over  the  same  counter — Erie,  which  has  a 
Mayor  and  Aldermen,  a  dog-law,  and  an  ordinance  against  shooting 
off  guns  in  the  street  under  a  penalty  of  five  dollars  for  each  and 
every  offense — Erie,  for  the  truth  cannot  be  longer  dashed  from 
utterance,  is  the  shabbiest  and  most  broken-down  looking  large 
town,  /,  the  present  writer,  an  individual  not  wholly  untraveled, 
ever  saw,  in  a  free  State  of  this  Confederacy. 

The  shores  of  the  lake  there  are  '  bluffy,'  sixty  feet  or  more  above 
the  water,  and  the  land  for  many  miles  back  is  nearly  a  dead  level, 
exceedingly  fertile,  and  quite  uninteresting.  No,  not  quite  For 


114  HE   WANDERS. 

much  of  the  primeval  forest  remains,  and  the  gigantic  trees  that 
were  saolings  when  Columbus  played  in  the  streets  of  Genoa, 
tower  akft,  a  hundred  feet  without  a  branch,  with  that  exquisite 
daintiness  of  taper  of  which  the  eye  never  tires,  which  architecture 
has  never  equaled,  which  only  Grecian  architecture  approached, 
and  was  beautiful  because  it  approached  it.  The  City  of  Erie  is 
merely  a  square  mile  of  this  level  land,  close  to  the  edge  of  the 
bluff,  with  a  thousand  houses  built  upon  it,  which  are  arranged  on 
the  plan  of  a  corn-field — only,  not  more  than  a  third  of  the  houses 
have  '  come  up.'  The  town,  however,  condenses  to  a  focus  around 
a  piece  of  ground  called  '  The  Park,'  four  acres  in  extent,  surrounded 
with  a  low,  broken  board  fence,  that  was  white-washed  a  long 
time  ago,  and  therefore  now  looks  very  forlorn  and  pig-pen-ny. 
The  side- walks  around  '  The  Park '  present  an  animated  scene.  The 
huge  hotel  of  the  place  is  there — a  cross  between  the  Astor  House 
and  a  country  tavern,  having  the  magnitude  of  the  former,  the 
quality  of  the  latter.  There,  too,  is  the  old  Court-House, — its 
uneven  brick  floor  covered  with  the  chips  of  a  mortising  machine, 
— its  galleries  up  near  the  high  ceiling,  kept  there  by  slender 
poles, — its  vast  cracked,  rusty  stove,  sprawling  all  askew,  and 
putting  forth  a  system  of  stovepipes  that  wander  long  through 
space  before  they  find  the  chimney.  Justice  is  administered  in 
that  Court-house  in  a  truly  free  and  easy  style ;  and  to  hear  the 
drowsy  clerk,  with  his  heels  in  the  air,  administer,  'twixt  sleep 
and  awake,  the  tremendous  oath  of  Pennsylvania,  to  a  brown, 
abashed  fanner,  with  his  right  hand  raised  in  a  manner  to  set 
off  his  awkwardness  to  the  best  advantage,  is  worth  a  journey 
to  Erie.  Two  sides  of  '  The  Park '  are  occupied  by  the  principal 
stores,  before  which  the  country  wagons  stand,  presenting  a  con 
tinuous  range  of  muddy  wheels.  The  marble  structure  around 
the  corner  is  not  a  Greek  temple,  though  built  in  the  style  of 
one,  and  quite  deserted  enough  to  be  a  ruin — it  is  the  Erie  Cus 
tom  House,  a  fine  example  of  governmental  management,  as  it 
is  as  much  too  large  for  the  business  done  in  it  as  the  Custom 
House  of  New  York  is  too  amall. 

The  Erie  of  the  present  yeT  is,  of  course,  not  the  Erie  of  1831, 
when  Horace  Greeley  walked  its  streets,  with  his  eyes  on  the  pave 
ment  and  a  bundle  of  excH'ges  in  his  pocket,  ruminating  on  the 


THE    LAKE.  115 

prospects  of  the  next  election,  or  thinking  out  a  copy  of  verses  to 
send  to  his  mother.  It  was  a  smaller  place,  then,  with  fewei  brick 
blocks,  more  pigs  in  the  street,  and  no  custom-house  in  the  Greek 
style.  But  it  had  ono  feature  which  has  not  changed.  The  LAKE 
was  there ! 

An  island,  seven  miles  long,  but  not  two  miles  wide,  once  a  part 
of  the  main  land,  lies  opposite  the  town,  at  an  apparent  distance  of 
half  a  mile,  though  in  reality  two  miles  and  a  half  from  the  shore. 
This  island,  which  approaches  the  main  land  at  either  extremity, 
forms  the  harbor  of  Erie,  and  gives  to  that  part  of  the  lake  the  ef 
fect  of  a  river.  Beyond,  the  Great  Lake  stretches  away  further 
than  the  eye  can  reach. 

A  great  lake  in  fine  weather  is  like  the  ocean  only  in  one  particu 
lar — you  cannot  see  across  it.  The  ocean  asserts  itself;  it  is  demon 
strative.  It  heaves,  it  Cashes,  it  sparkles,  it  foams,  it  roars.  On  the 
stillest  day,  it  does  not  quite  go  to  sleep ;  the  tide  steals  up  the  white 
beach,  and  glides  back  again  over  the  shells  and  pebbles  musically,  or 
it  murmurs  along  the  sides  of  black  rocks,  with  a  subdued  though  al 
ways  audible  voice.  The  ocean  is  a  living  and  life-giving  thing, l  fair, 
and  fresh,  and  ever  free.'  The  lake,  on  a  fine  day,  lies  dead.  No 
tide  breaks  upon  its  earthy  shore.  It  is  as  blue  as  a  blue  ribbon,  as 
blue  as  the  sky  ;  and  vessels  come  sailing  out  of  heaven,  and  go  sail 
ing  into  heaven,  and  no  eye  can  discern  where  the  lake  ends  and 
heaven  begins.  It  is  as  smooth  as  a  mirror's  face,  and  as  dull  as  a 
mirror's  back.  Often  a  light  mist  gathers  over  it,  and  then  the  lake 
is  gone  from  the  prospect ;  but  for  an  occasional  sail  dimly  descried, 
or  a  streak  of  black  smoke  left  by  a  passing  steamer,  it  would  give 
absolutely  no  sign  of  its  presence,  though  the  spectator  is  standing 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  shore.  Often er  the  mist  gathers  thick 
ly  along  the  horizon,  and  then,  so  perfect  is  the  illusion,  the  stran 
ger  will  swear  he  sees  the  opposite  shore,  not  fifteen  miles  off. 
There  is  no  excitement  in  looking  upon  a  lake,  and  it  has  no  effect 
upon  the  appetite  or  the  complexion.  Yet  there  is  a  quiet,  languid 
beauty  hovering  over  it,  a  beauty  all  its  own,  a  charm  that  grows 
upon  the  mind  the  longer  you  linger  upon  the  shore.  The  Castle 
of  Indolence  should  have  been  placed  upon  the  bank  of  Lake  Erie, 
where  its  inmates  could  have  lain  on  the  grass  and  gazed  down, 


116  HE   WANDERS. 

through  all  the  slow  hours  of  the  long  summer  day,  upon  the  lazy, 
hazy,  blue  expanse. 

When  the  wind  blows,  the  lake  wakes  up ;  and  still  it  is  not  the 
ocean.  The  waves  are  discolored  by  the  earthy  bank  upon  which 
they  break  with  un-oceanlike  monotony.  They  neither  advance, 
nor  recede,  nor  roar,  nor  swell.  A  great  lake,  with  all  its  charms, 
and  they  are  many  and  great,  is  only  an  infinite  pond. 

The  people  of  Erie  care  as  much  for  the  lake  as  the  people  of 
Niagara  care  for  the  cataract,  as  much  as  people  generally  care  for 
anything  wonderful  or  anything  beautiful  which  they  can  see  by 
turning  their  heads.  In  other  words,  they  care  for  it  as  the  means 
by  which  lime,  coal,  and  lumber  may  be  transported  to  another  and 
a  better  market.  Not  one  house  is  built  along  the  shore,  though  the 
shore  is  high  and  level.  Not  a  path  has  been  worn  by  human  feet 
above  or  below  the  bluff.  Pigs,  sheep,  cows,  and  sweet-brier  bushes 
occupy  the  unenclosed  ground,  which  seems  so  made  to  be  built 
upon  that  it  is  surprising  the  handsome  houses  of  the  town  should 
have  been  built  anywhere  else.  One  could  almost  say,  in  a  weak 
moment,  Give  me  a  cottage  on  the  bluff,  and  I  will  live  at  Erie ! 

It  was  at  Erie,  probably,  that  Horace  Greeley  first  saw  the  uni 
form  of  the  American  navy.  The  United  States  and  Great  Britain 
are  each  permitted  by  treaty  to  keep  one  vessel  of  war  in  commis 
sion  on  the  Great  Lakes.  The  American  vessel  usually  lies  in  the 
harbor  of  Erie,  and  a  few  officers  may  be  seen  about  the  town. 
What  the  busy  journeyman  printer  thought  of  those  idle  gentlemen, 
apparently  the  only  quite  useless,  and  certainly  the  best  dressed, 
persons  in  the  place,  may  be  guessed.  Perhaps,  however,  he  passed 
them  by,  in  his  absent  way,  and  saw  them  not. 

In  a  few  days,  the  new  comer  was  in  high  favor  at  the  office  of 
the  Erie  Gazette.  He  is  remembered  there  as  a  remarkably  correct 
and  reliable  compositor,  though  not  a  rapid  one,  and  his  steady 
devotion  to  his  work  enabled  him  to  accomplish  more  than  faster 
workmen.  He  was  soon  placed  by  his  employer  on  the  footing  of 
a  regular  journeyman,  at  the  usual  wages,  twelve  dollars  a  month 
and  board.  All  the  intervals  of  labor  he  spent  in  reading.  As 
soon  as  the  hour  of  cessation  arrived,  he  would  hurry  off  his  apron, 
wash  his  hands,  and  lose  himself  in  his  book  or  his  newspapers, 
often  forgetting  his  dinner,  and  often  forgetting  whether  he  had  had 


NO    MORE   WORK   AT   ERIE.  117 

liif-  dinner  or  not.  More  and  more,  he  became  absorbed  in  politics. 
It  is  said,  by  one  who  worked  beside  him  at  Erie,  that  he  could  tell 
the  name,  post-office  address,  and  something  of  the  history  and 
political  leanings,  of  every  member  of  Congress  ;  and  that  he  could 
give  the  particulars  of  every  important  election  that  had  occurred 
within  his  recollection,  even,  in  some  instances,  to  the  county 
majorities. 

And  thus,  in  earnest  work  and  earnest  reading,  seven  profitable 
and  not  unhappy  months  passed  swiftly  away.  He  never  lost  one 
day's  work.  On  Sundays,  he  read,  or  walked  along  the  shores  of 
the  lake,  or  sailed  over  to  the  Island.  His  better  fortune  made  no 
change  either  in  his  habits  or  his  appearance ;  and  his  employer 
was  surprised,  that  mouth  after  month  passed,  and  yet  his  strange 
journeyman  drew  no  money.  Once,  Mr.  Sterrett  ventured  to 
rally  him  a  little  upon  his  persistence  in  wearing  the  hereditary 
homespun,  saying,  "  Now,  Horace,  you  have  a  good  deal  of  money 
coming  to  you  ;  don't  go  about  the  town  any  longer  in  that  out 
landish  rig.  Let  me  give  you  an  order  on  the  store.  Dress  up  a 
little,  Horace."  To  which  Horace  replied,  looking  down  at  the  '  out 
landish  rig,'  as  though  he  had  never  seen  it  before,  "  You  see,  Mr. 
Sterrett,  my  father  is  on  a  new  place,  and  I  want  to  help  him  all  I 
can."  However,  a  short  time  after,  Horace  did  make  a  faint  effort 
to  dress  up  a  little;  but  the  few  articles  which  he  bought  were  so 
extremely  coarse  and  common,  that  it  was  a  question  in  the  office 
whether  his  appearance  was  improved  by  the  change,  or  the 
contrary. 

At  the  end  of  the  seventh  month,  the  man  whose  sickness  had 
made  a  temporary  vacancy  in  the  office  of  the  Gazette,  returned  to 
his  place,  and  there  was,  in  consequence,  no  more  work  for  Horace 
Greeley.  Upon  the  settlement  of  his  account,  it  appeared  that  he 
had  drawn  for  his  personal  expenses  during  his  residence  at  Erie, 
the  sum  of  six  dollars !  Of  the  remainder  of  his  wages,  he  took 
about  fifteen  dollars  in  money,  and  the  rest  in  the  form  of  a  note ; 
and  with  all  this  wealth  in  his  pocket,  he  walked  once  more  to  his 
father's  house.  This  note  the  generous  fellow  gave  to  his  father, 
reserving  the  money  to  carry  on  his  own  personal  warfare  with  the 
world. 

And  now,  Horace  was  tired  of  dallying  with  fortune  in  coun- 


118  ARRIVAL   IN    NEW   YORK. 

try  printing  offices.  He  said,  he  thought  it  was  time  to  do  some 
thing,  and  he  formed  the  bold  resolution  of  going  straight  to  New 
York  and  seeking  his  fortune  in  the  metropolis.  After  a  few  days  of 
recreation  at  home,  he  tied  up  his  bundle  once  more,  put  his  money 
in  his  pocket,  and  plunged  into  the  woods  in  the  direction  of  the 
Erie  Canal. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

AKKIVAL    IN    NEW    YOKE. 

The  journey— a  night  on  the  tow-path— He  reaches  the  city— Inventory  of  his  property 
— Looks  for  a  boarding-house — Finds  one — Expends  half  his  capital  upon  clothes 
—Searches  for  employment— Berated  by  David  Hale  as  a  runaway  apprentice- 
Continues  the  search— Goes  to  church— Hears  of  a  vacancy— Obtains  work— Tlif 

boss  takes  him  for  a  * fool,'  but  changes  his  opinion— Nicknamed  *  the  Ghost  • 

— Practical  jokes — Horace  metamorphosed — Dispute  about    commas — The  shoe 
maker's  boarding-house— Grand  banquet  on  Sundays. 

HE  took  the  canal-boat  at  Buffalo  and  came  as  far  as  Lockport, 
whence  lie  walked  a  few  miles  to  Gaines,  and  staid  a  day  at  the 
house  of  a  friend  whom  he  had  known  in  Vermont.  Next  morn 
ing  he  walked  back,  accompanied  by  his  friend,  to  the  canal,  and 
both  of  them  waited  many  hours  for  an  eastward-bound  boat  to 
pass.  Night  came,  but  no  boat,  and  the  adventurer  persuaded  his 
friend  to  go  home,  and  set  out  himself  to  walk  on  the  tow-path  to 
wards  Albion.  It  was  a  very  dark  night.  He  walked  slowly  on, 
hour  after  hour,  looking  anxiously  behind  him  for  the  expected 
boat,  looking  more  anxiously  before  him  to  discern  the  two  fiery 
eyes  of  the  boats  bound  to  the  west,  in  time  to  avoid  being  swept 
into  the  canal  by  the  tow-line.  Towards  morning,  a  boat  of  the 
slower  sort,  a  scow  probably,  overtook  him ;  he  went  on  board,  and 
tired  with  his  long  walk,  lay  down  in  the  cabin  to  rest.  Sleep  was 
tf.rdy  in  alighting  upon  his  eye-lids,  and  he  had  the  pleasure  of 
hearing  his  merits  and  his  costume  fully  and  freely  discussed 
by  his  fellow  passengers.  It  was  Monday  morning.  One  passen 
ger  explained  the  coming  on  board  of  the  stranger  at  so  unusual  an 


INVENTOR  r  OF  HIS  PROPERTY.  119 

•jour,  by  suggesting  that  he  had  been  courting  all  night.  (Sunday 
evening  in  country  places  is  sacred  to  love.)  His  appearance  was  so 
exceedingly  unlike  that  of  a  lover,  that  this  sally  created  much 
amusement,  in  which  the  wakeful  traveler  shared.  At  Rochester 
he  took  a  faster  boat.  Wednesday  night  he  reached  Schenectady, 
where  he  left  the  canal  and  walked  to  Albany,  as  the  canal  between 
those  two  towns  is  much  obstructed  by  locks.  He  reached  Albany 
on  Thursday  morning,  just  in  time  to  see  the  seven  o'clock  steam 
boat  move  out  into  the  stream.  He,  therefore,  took  passage  in  a 
tow-boat  which  started  at  ten  o'clock  on  the  same  morning.  At 
sunrise  on  Friday,  the  eighteenth  of  August,  1831,  Horace  Greeley 
landed  at  Whitehall,  close  to  the  Battery,  in  the  city  of  New  York. 

New  York  was,  and  is,  a  city  of  adventurers.  Few  of  our  emi 
nent  citizens  were  born  here.  It  is  a  common  boast  among  New 
Yorkers,  that  this  great  merchant  and  that  great  millionaire  came 
to  the  city  a  ragged  boy,  with  only  three  and  sixpence  in  his 
pocket;  and  now  look  at  him  I  In  a  list  of  the  one  hundred  men 
who  are  esteemed  to  be  the  most  'successful '  among  the  citizens 
of  New  York,  it  is  probable  that  seventy-five  of  the  names  would 
be  those  of  men  who  began  their  career  here  in  circumstances  that 
gave  no  promise  of  future  eminence.  But  among  them  all.  it  is 
questionable  whether  there  was  one  who  on  his  arrival  had  so  lit 
tle  to  help,  so  much  to  hinder  him,  as  Horace  Greeley. 

Of  solid  cash,  his  stock  was  ten  dollars.  His  other  property  con 
sisted  of  the  clothes  he  wore,  the  clothes  he  carried  in  his  small 
bundle,  and  the  stick  with  which  he  carried  it.  The  clothes  he 
wore  need  not  be  described ;  they  were  those  which  had  already 
astonished  the  people  of  Erie.  The  clothes  he  carried  were  very 
few,  and  precisely  similar  in  cut  and  quality  to  the  garments  which 
he  exhibited  to  the  public.  On  the  violent  supposition  that  his 
wardrobe  could  in  any  case  have  become  a  salable  commodity,  wo 
may  compute  that  he  was  worth,  on  this  Friday  morning  at  sun 
rise,  ten  dollars  and  seventy-five  cents.  He  had  no  friend,  no  ac 
quaintance  here.  There  was  not  a  human  being  upon  whom  he 
had  any  claim  for  help  or  advice.  His  appearance  was  all  against 
him.  He  looked  in  his  round  jacket  like  an  overgrown  boy.  No 
one  was  likely  to  observe  the  engaging  beauty  of  his  face,  or  the 
noble  round  of  his  brow  under  that  overhanging  hat,  over  that 


120  ARRIVAL   IN   NEW   YORK. 

long  and  stooping  body.  He  was  somewhat  timorous  in  his  inter 
course  with  strangers.  He  would  not  intrude  upon  their  attention  ; 
he  had  not  the  faculty  of  pushing  his  way,  and  proclaiming  his  mer 
its  and  his  desires.  To  the  arts  by  which  men  are  conciliated,  by 
which  unwilling  ears  are  forced  to  attend  to  an  unwelcome  tale,  he 
was  utterly  a  stranger.  Moreover,  he  had  neglected  to  bring  with 
him  anj7  letters  of  recommendation,  or  any  certificate  of  his  skill 
as  a  printer.  It  had  not  occurred  to  him  that  anything  of  the  kind 
was  necessary,  so  unacquainted  was  he  with  the  life  of  cities. 

His  first  employment  was  to  find  a  boarding-house  where  he 
could  live  a  long  time  on  a  small  sum.  Leaving  the  green  Battery 
ou  his  left  hand,  he  strolled  off  into  Broad-street,  and  at  the  corner 
of  that  street  and  Wall  discovered  a  house  that  in  his  eyes  had  the 
aspect  of  a  cheap  tavern.  He  entered  the  bar-room,  and  asked  the 
price  of  board. 

u  I  guess  we  're  too  high  for  you,"  said  the  bar-keeper,  after 
bestowing  one  glance  upon  the  inquirer. 

"  Well,  how  much  a  week  do  you  charge  ?" 

"  Six  dollars." 

"  Yes,  that 's  more  than  I  can  afford,"  said  Horace  with  a  laugh 
at  the  enormous  mistake  he  had  made  in  inquiring  at  a  house  of 
such  pretensions. 

He  turned  up  Wall-street,  and  sauntered  into  Broadway.  Seeing 
no  house  of  entertainment  that  seemed  at  all  suited  to  his  circum 
stances,  he  sought  the  water  once  more,  and  wandered  along  the 
wharves  of  the  North  River  as  far  as  Washington-market.  Board 
ing-houses  of  the  cheapest  kind,  and  drinking-houses'of  the  lowest 
grade,  the  former  frequented  chiefly  by  emigrants,  the  latter  by 
sailors,  were  numerous  enough  in  that  neighborhood.  A  house, 
which  combined  the  low  groggery  and  the  cheap  boarding-house 
in  one  small  establishment,  kept  by  an  Irishman  named  M'Gorlick, 
chanced  to  be  the  one  that  first  attracted  the  rover's  attention.  It 
looked  so  mean  and  squalid,  that  he  was  tempted  to  enter,  and 
again  inquire  for  what  sum  a  man  could  buy  a  week's  shelter  and 
sustenance. 

u  Twenty  shillings,"  was  the  landlord's  reply. 

"  Ah,"  said  Horace,  "that  sounds  more  like  it." 

Ho  engaged  to  board  with  Mr.  M'Gorlick  on  the  instant,  and 


SEARCHES  FOR  EMPLOYMENT.  121 

proceeded  soon  to  test  the  quality  of  his  fare  by  taking  breakfast 
in  the  bosom  of  his  family.  The  cheapness  of  the  entertainment 
was  its  best  recommendation. 

After  breakfast  Horace  performed  an  act  which  I  believe  he  had 
never  spontaneously  performed  before.  He  bought  some  clothes, 
with  a  view  to  render  himself  more  presentable.  They  were  of 
the  commonest  kind,  and  the  garments  were  few,  but  the  purchase 
absorbed  nearly  half  his  capital.  Satisfied  with  his  appearance,  he 
now  began  the  round  of  the  printing-offices,  going  into  every  one 
he  could  find,  and  asking  for  employment — merely  asking,  and 
going  away,  without  a  word,  as  soon  as  he  was  refused.  In  the 
course  of  the  morning,  he  found  himself  in  the  office  of  the  Journal 
of  Commerce,  and  he  chanced  to  direct  his  inquiry,  *  if  they  wanted 
a  hand,1  to  the  late  David  Hale,  one  of  the  proprietors  of  the  paper. 
Mr.  Hale  took  a  survey  of  the  person  who  had  presumed  to  ad 
dress  him,  and  replied  in  substance  as  follows : — 

"  My  opinion  is,  young  man,  that  you  're  a  runaway  apprentice, 
and  you  'd  better  go  home  to  your  master." 

Horace  endeavored  to  explain  his  position  and  circumstances, 
but  the  impetuous  Hale  could  be  brought  to  no  more  gracious 
response  than,  u  Be  off  about  your  business,  and  don't  bother  us." 

Horace,  more  amused  than  indignant,  retired,  and  pursued  his 
way  to  the  next  office.  All  that  day  he  walked  the  streets,  climb 
ed  into  upper  stories,  came  down  again,  ascended  other  heights, 
descended,  dived  into  basements,  traversed  passages,  groped  through 
labyrinths,  ever  asking  the  same  question,  l  Do  you  want  a  hand  ?' 
and  ever  receiving  the  same  reply,  in  various  degrees  of  civility, 
4  No.'  He  walked  ten  times  as  many  miles  as  he  needed,  for  he 
was  not  aware  that  nearly  all  the  printing-offices  in  New  York  are 
in  the  same  square  mile.  He  went  the  entire  length  of  many  streets 
which  any  body  could  have  told  him  did  not  contain  one. 

He  went  home  on  Friday  evening  very  tired  and  a  little  dis 
couraged. 

Early  on  Saturday  morning  he  resumed  the  search,  and  continued 
it  with  energy  till  the  evening.  But  no  one  wanted  a  hand.  Busi 
ness  seemed  to  be  at  a  stand-still,  or  every  office  had  its  full  comple 
ment  of  men.  On  Saturday  evening  he  was  still  more  fatigued. 
He  resolved  to  remain  in  the  city  a  day  or  two  longer,  and  then,  if 

A 


122  ARRIVAL   IN    NEW   YORK 

still  unsuccessful,  to  turn  his  face  homeward,  and  inquire  for  work 
at  the  towns  through  which  he  passed.  Though  discouraged,  he 
was  not  disheartened,  and  still  less  alarmed. 

The  youthful  reader  should  ohserve  here  what  a  sense  of  inde 
pendence  and  what  fearlessness  dwell  in  the  spirit  of  a  man  who  has 
learned  the  art  of  living  on  the  mere  necessaries  of  life.  If  Horace 
Greeley  had,  after  another  day  or  two  of  trial,  chosen  to  leave  the 
city,  he  would  have  carried  with  him  ahout  four  dollars ;  and  with 
that  sum  he  could  have  walked  leisurely  and  with  an  unanxious 
heart  all  the  way  back  to  his  father's  house,  six  hundred  miles, 
inquiring  for  work  at  every  town,  and  feeling  himself  to  he  a  free 
and  independent  American  citizen,  traveling  on  his  own  honestly- 
earned  means,  undegraded  by  an  obligation,  the  equal  in  social  rank 
of  the  best  man  in  the  best  house  he  passed.  Blessed  is  the  young 
man  who  can  walk  thirty  miles  a  day,  and  dine  contentedly  on  half 
a  pound  of  crackers!  Give  him  four  dollars  and  summer  weather, 
and  he  can  travel  and  revel  like  a  prince  incog,  for  forty  days. 

On  Sunday  morning,  our  hero  arose,  refreshed  and  cheerful.  He 
went  to  church  twice,  and  spent  a  happy  day.  In  the  morning  he 
induced  a  man  who  lived  in  the  house  to  accompany  him  to  a  small 
Universalist  chnrch  in  Pitt  street,  near  the  Dry  Dock,  not  less  than 
three  miles  distant  from  MlGorlick's  boarding-house.  In  the  evening 
he  found  his  way  to  a  Unitarian  church.  Except  on  one  occasion, 
he  had  never  before  this  Sunday  heard  a  sermon  which  accorded 
with  his  own  religious  opinions;  and  the  pleasure  with  which  he 
heard  the  benignity  of  the  Deity  asserted  and  proved  by  able  men, 
was  one  of  the  highest  he  had  enjoyed. 

In  the  afternoon,  as  if  in  reward  of  the  pious  way  in  which  he 
spent  the  Sunday,  he  heard  news  which  gave  him  a  faint  hope  of 
being  able  to  remain  in  the  city.  An  Irishman,  a  friend  of  the 
landlord,  came  in  the  course  of  the  afternoon  to  pay  his  usua,  Sun 
day  visit,  and  became  acquainted  with  Horace  and  his  fruitless 
search  for  work.  He  was  a  shoemaker,  I  believe,  but  he  lived  in  a 
house  which  was  much  frequented  by  journeymen  printers.  From 
them  he  had  heard  that  hands  were  wanted  at  West's,  No.  85  Chat 
ham  street,  and  be  recommended  his  new  acquaintance  to  make 
immediate  application  at  that  office. 

Accustomed  to  country  hours,  and  eager  to  seize  the  chance, 


HE    HEARS    OF   A   VACANCY.  123 

Horace  was  in  Chatham  street  and  on  the  steps  of  the  designate^ 
nouse  by  half-past  five  on  Monday  morning.  West's  printing  office 
was  in  the  second  story,  the  ground  floor  being  occupied  by  Mc- 
Elrath  and  Bangs  as  a  bookstore.  They  were  publishers,  and  West 
was  their  printer.  Neither  store  nor  office  was  yet  opened,  and 
Horace  sat  down  on  the  steps  to  wait. 

Had  Thomas  McElrath,  Esquire,  happened  to  pass  on  an  early 
walk  to  the  Battery  that  morning,  and  seen  our  hero  sitting  on  those 
steps,  with  his  red  bundle  on  his  knees,  his  pale  face  supported  on 
his  hands,  his  attitude  expressive  of  dejection  and  anxiety,  his  attire 
extremely  unornamental,  it  would  not  have  occurred  to  Thomas  Mc 
Elrath,  Esquire,  as  a  probable  event,  that  one  day  he  would  be  the 
PARTNER  of  that  sorry  figure,  and  proud  of  the  connection !  Nor  did 
Miss  Reed,  of  Philadelphia,  when  she  saw  Benjamin  Franklin  pass 
her  father's  house,  eating  a  large  roll  and  carrying  two  others  under 
his  arms,  see  in  that  poor  wanderer  any  likeness  to  her  future  hus 
band,  the  husband  that  made  her  a  proud  and  an  immortal  wife. 
The  princes  of  the.  mind  always  remain  incog,  till  they  come  to  the 
throne,  and,  doubtless,  the  Coining  Man,  when  he  comes,  will  appear 
in  a  strange  disguise,  and  no  man  will  know  him. 

It  seemed  very  long  before  any  one  came  to  work  that  morning 
at  No.  85.  The  steps  on  which  our  friend  was  seated  were  in  the 
narrow  part  of  Chatham-street,  the  gorge  through  which  at  morn 
ing  and  evening  the  swarthy  tide  of  mechanics  pours.  By  six 
o'clock  the  stream  has  set  strongly  down-town-ward,  and  it  gradu 
ally  swells  to  a  torrent,  bright  with  tin  kettles.  Thousands  passed 
by,  but  no  one  stopped  till  nearly  seven  o'clock,  when  one  of  Mr. 
West's  journeymen  arrived,  and  finding  the  door  still  locked,  he  sat 
down  on  the  steps  by  the  side  of  Horace  Greeley.  They  fell  into 
conversation,  and  Horace  stated  his  circumstances,  something  of  his 
history,  and  his  need  of  employment.  Luckily  this  journeyman  was 
a  Vermonter,  and  a  kind-hearted,  intelligent  man.  He  looked  upon 
Horace  as  a  countryman,  and  was  struck  with  the  singular  candor 
and  artlessness  with  which  he  told  his  tale.  "  I  saw,"  says  he,  "  that 
he  was  an  honest,  good  young  man,  and  being  a  Vermonter  myself, 
I  determined  to  help  him  if  I  could." 

He  did  help  him.  The  doors  were  opened,  the  men  began  to 
ariive;  Horace  and  his  newly-found  friend  ascended  to  the  office, 


124  ARRIVAL   IN   NEW    YORK. 

and  soon  after  seven  the  work  of  the  day  began.  It  is  hardly  neces 
sary  to  say  that  the  appearance  of  Horace,  as  he  sat  in  the  office 
waiting  for  the  coming  of  the  foreman,  excited  unbounded  astonish 
ment,  and  brought  upon  his  friend  a  variety  of  satirical  observations. 
Nothing  daunted,  however,  on  the  arrival  of  the  foreman  he  stated 
the  case,  and  endeavored  to  interest  him  enough  in  Horace  to  give 
him  a  trial.  It  happened  that  the  work  for  which  a  man  was  wanted 
in  the  office  was  the  composition  of  a  Polyglot  Testament ;  a  kind 
of  work  which  is  extremely  difficult  and  tedious.  Several  men  had 
tried  their  hand  at  it,  and,  in  a  few  days  or  a  few  hours,  given  it  up. 
The  foreman  looked  at  Horace,  and  Horace  looked  at  the  foreman. 
Horace  saw  a  handsome  man  (now  known  to  the  sporting  public  as 
Colonel  Porter,  editor  of  the  Spirit  of  the  Times.)  The  foreman 
beheld  a  youth  who  could  have  gone  on  the  stage,  that  minute,  as 
Ezekiel  Homespun  without  the  alteration  of  a  thread  or  a  hair,  and 
brought  down  the  house  by  his  l  getting  up'  alone.  He  no  more 
believed  that  Ezekiel  could  set  up  a  page  of  a  Polyglot  Testament 
than  that  he  could  construct  a  chronometer.  However,  partly  to 
oblige  Horace's  friend,  partly  because  he  was  unwilling  to  wound 
the  feelings  of  the  applicant  by  sending  him  abruptly  away,  he  con 
sented  to  let  him  try.  u  Fix  up  a  case  for  him,"  said  he,  "  and  we  '11 
eee  if  he  can  do  anything."  In  a  few  minutes  Horace  was  at 
work. 

The  gentleman  to  whose  intercession  Horace  Greeley  owed  his 
first  employment  in  New-York  is  now  known  to  all  the  dentists  in 
the  Union  as  the  leading  member  of  a  firm  which  manufactures 
annually  twelve  hundred  thousand  artificial  teeth.  He  has  made 
a  fortune,  the  reader  will  be  glad  to  learn,  and  lives  in  a  mansion  up 
town. 

After  Horace  had  been  at  work  an  hour  or  two,  Mr.  West,  the 
*  boss,'  came  into  the  office.  What  his  feelings  were  when  he  saw 
his  new  man,  may  be  inferred  from  a  little  conversation  upon  the 
subject  which  took  place  between  him  and  the  foreman. 

"  Did  you  hire  that fool  ?"  asked  West  with  no  small  irri 
tation. 

"  Yes ;  we  must  have  hands,  and  he  's  the  best  I  could  get,"  said 
the  foreman,  justifying  h's  conduct,  though  he  was  really  ashamed 
of  it. 


125 

"Well,"  said  the  master,  "for  God's  sake  pay  him  off  to-night, 
and  let  him  go  about  his  business." 

Horace  worked  through  the  day  with  his  usual  intensity,  and  in 
perfect  silence.  At  night  he  presented  to  the  foreman,  as  the  cu? 
torn  then  was,  the  'proof  of  his  day's  work  What  astonishment 
was  depicted  in  the  good-looking  countenance  of  that  gentleman 
when  he  discovered  that  the  proof  before  him  was  greater  in  quan 
tity,  and  more  correct  than  that  of  any  other  day's  work  which 
had  yet  been  done  on  the  Polyglot !  There  was  no  thought  of  send 
ing  the  new  journeyman  about  his  business  now.  He  was  an  es 
tablished  man  at  once.  Thenceforward,  for  several  months,  Horace 
worked  regularly  and  hard  on  the  Testament,  earning  about  six  dol 
lars  a  week. 

He  had  got  into  good  company.  There  were  about  twenty  men 
and  boys  in  the  office,  altogether,  of  whom  two  have  since  been 
members  of  Congress,  three  influential  editors,  and  several  othera 
have  attained  distinguished  success  in  more  private  vocations.  Most 
of  them  are  still  alive ;  they  remember  vividly  the  coming  among 
them  of  Horace  Greeley,  and  are  fond  of  describing  his  ways  and 
works.  The  following  paragraph  the  reader  is  requested  to  regard 
as  the  condensed  statement  of  their  several  recollections. 

Horace  worked  with  most  remarkable  devotion  and  intensity. 
His  task  was  difficult,  and  he  was  paid  by  the  4  piece.'  In  order, 
therefore,  to  earn  tolerable  wages,  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  work 
harder  and  longer  than  any  of  his  companions,  and  he  did  so. 
Often  he  was  at  his  case  before  six  in  the  morning;  often  he 
had  not  left  it  at  nine  in  the  evening ;  always,  he  was  the  first  to 
begin  and  the  last  to  leave.  In  the  summer,  no  man  beside  him 
self  worked  before  breakfast,  or  after  tea.  While  the  young  men 
and  older  apprentices  were  roaming  the  streets,  seeking  their 
pleasure,  he,  by  the  light  of  a  candle  stuck  in  a  bottle,  was  eking 
out  a  slender  day's  wages  by  setting  up  an  extra  column  of  the 
Polyglot  Testament. 

For  a  day  or  two,  the  men  of  the  office  eyed  him  askance,  and 
winked  at  one  another  severely.  The  boys  were  more  demonstra 
tive,  and  one  of  the  most  mischievous  among  them  named  him 
THE  GHOST,  in  allusion  to  his  long  white  hair,  and  the  singular  fair 
ness  of  his  complexion.  Soon,  however,  the  men  who  work***  near 


126  ARRIVAL   IN    NEW   YORK. 

him  began  to  suspect  that  his  mind  was  better  furnished  than  his 
person.  Horace  always  had  a  way  of  talking  profusely  while  at 
work,  and  that,  too,  without  working  with  less  assiduity.  Conver 
sations  soon  i^rose  about  masonry,  temperance,  politics,  religion ; 
and  the  new  journeyman  rapidly  argued  his  way  to  respectful  con 
sideration.  His  talk  was  ardent,  animated,  and  positive.  He  was 
perfectly  confident  of  his  opinions,  and  maintained  them  with  an 
assurance  that  in  a  youth  of  less  understanding  and  less  geniality 
would  have  been  thought  arrogance.  His  enthusiasm  at  this  time, 
was  Henry  Clay  ;  his  great  subject,  masonry.  In  a  short  time,  to 
|note  the  language  of  one  his  fellow-workmen,  i  he  was  the  lion  of 
the  shop.'  Yet  for  all  that,  the  men  who  admired  him  most  would 
nave  their  joke,  and  during  all  the  time  that  Horace  remained  in 
the  office,  it  was  the  standing  amusement  to  make  nonsensical  re 
marks  in  order  to  draw  from  him  one  of  his  shrewd,  half-comic, 
Scotch-Irish  retorts.  "  And  we  always  got  it,"  says  one. 

The  boys  of  the  office  were  overcome  by  a  process  similar  to  that 
which  frustrated  the  youth  of  Poultney.  Four  or  five  of  them, 
who  knew  Horace's  practice  of  returning  to  the  office  in  the  even 
ing  and  working  alone  by  candle-light,  concluded  that  that  would 
be  an  excellent  time  to  play  a  few  printing-office  tricks  upon  him. 
They  accordingly  lay  in  ambush  one  evening,  in  the  dark  recesses 
of  the  shop,  and  awaited  the  appearance  of  the  Ghost.  He  had  no 
sooner  lighted  his  candle  and  got  at  work,  than  a  ball,  made  of  '  old 
roller,'  whizzed  past  his  ear  and  knocked  over  his  candle.  He  set 
it  straight  again  and  went  on  with  his  work.  Another  ball,  and 
another,  and  another,  and  finally  a  volley.  One  hit  his  4  stick,'  one 
scattered  his  type,  another  broke  his  bottle,  and  several  struck  his 
head.  He  bore  it  till  the  balls  came  so  fast,  that  it  was  impossible 
for  him  to  work,  as  all  his  time  was  wasted  in  repairing  damages. 
At  length,  he  turned  round  and  said,  without  the  slightest  ill-humor, 
and  in  a  supplicating  tone,  "  Now,  boys,  don't.  I  want  to  work. 
Please,  now,  let  me  alone."  The  boys  came  out  of  their  places  of 
concealment  into  the  light  of  the  candle,  and  troubled  him  no 
nore. 

Thus,  it  appears,  that  every  man  can  best  defend  himself  with 
the  weapon  that  nature  has  provided  him — whether  it  be  fists  or 
forgiveness.  Little  Jane  Eyre  was  of  opinion,  that  when  anybody 


THE    OBLIGING   MAN    OF   THE   OFFICE.  127 

has  struck  another,  he  should  himself  be  struck;  "  4y  hard,"  says 
Jane,  "so  hard,  that  lie  will  be  afraid  ever  to  stri"  j  anybody  again." 
On  the  contrary,  thought  Horace  Greeley,  whe  any  ono  has  wan 
tonly  or  unjustly  struck  another,  he  should  bf  ,o  severely  forgiven, 
and  made  so  thoroughly  ashamed  of  himself,  ,nat  he  will  ever  after 
shrink  from  striking  a  wanton  or  an  unjust  olow.  Sound  maxims, 
both;  the  first,  for  Jane,  the  second,  for  Hjrace. 

His  good  humor  was,  in  truth,  naturally  imperturbable.  He  was 
soon  the  recognized  OBLIGING  MAN  of  the  office ;  the  person  relied 
upon  always  when  help  was  needed — a  most  inconvenient  kind  of 
reputation.  Among  mechanics,  money  is  generally  abundant  enough 
on  Sundays  and  Mondays ;  and  they  spend  it  freely  on  those  days. 
Tuesday  and  Wednesday,  they  are  only  in  moderate  circumstances. 
The  last  days  of  the  week  are  days  of  pressure  and  borrowing, 
when  men  are  in  a  better  condition  to  be  treated  than  to  treat. 
Horace  Greeley  was  the  man  who  had  money  always;  he  was  as 
rich  apparently  on  Saturday  afternoon  as  on  Sunday  morning,  and 
as  willing  to  lend.  In  an  old  memorandum-book  belonging  to  one 
of  his  companions  in  those  days,  still  may  be  deciphered  such  en 
tries  as  these:  'Borrowed  of  Horace  Greeley,  2s.'  'Owe  Horace 
Greeley,  9s.  6d.'  *  Owe  Horace  Greeley,  2s.  6d,  for  a  breastpin.' 
He  never  refused  to  lend  his  money.  To  himself,  he  allowed  scarce 
ly  anything  in  the  way  of  luxury  or  amusement;  unless,  indeed, 
an  occasional  purchase  of  a  small  share  in  a  lottery-ticket  may  be 
styled  a  luxury. 

Lotteries  were  lawful  in  those  days,  and  Chatham-street  was 
where  lottery-offices  most  abounded.  It  was  regarded  as  a  per 
fectly  respectable  and  legitimate  business  to  keep  a  lottery-office, 
and  a  perfectly  proper  and  moral  action  to  buy  a  lottery-ticket. 
The  business  was  conducted  openly  and  fairly,  and  under  official 
supervision ;  not  as  it  now  is,  by  secret  and  irresponsible  agents  in 
ail  parts  of  the  city  and  country.  Whether  less  money,  or  more, 
is  lost  by  lotteries  now  than  formerly,  is  a  question  which,  it  is 
surprising,  no  journalist  has  determined.  Whether  they  cause 
less  or  greater  demoralization  is  a  question  which  it  were  well 
for  moralists  to  consider. 

Of  the  few  incidents  which  occurred  to  relieve  the  monotony  of 


128  ARRIVAL   IN   NEW   YORK. 

the  printing-office  in  Chatham  street,  the  one  which  is  most  glee 
fully  remembered  is  the  following : — 

Horace  was,  of  course,  subjected  to  a  constant  fire  of  jocular 
observations  upon  his  dress,  and  frequently  to  practical  jokes  sug 
gested  by  its  deficiencies  and  redundancies.  Men  stared  at  him  in 
the  streets,  and  boys  called  after  him.  Still,  however,  he  clung  to 
his  linen  roundabout,  his  short  trowsers,  his  cotton  shirt,  and  his 
dilapidated  hat.  Still  he  wore  no  stockings,  and  made  his  wrist 
bands  meet  with  twine.  For  all  jokes  upon  the  subject  he  had  deaf 
ears ;  and  if  any  one  seriously  remonstrated,  he  would  not  defend 
himself  by  explaining,  that  all  the  money  he  could  spare  was  Deed 
ed  in  the  wilderness,  six  hundred  miles  away,  whither  he  punctually 
sent  it.  September  passed  and  October.  It  began  to  be  cold,  but 
our  hero  had  been  toughened  by  the  winters  of  Vermont,  and  still 
he  walked  about  in  linen.  One  evening  in  November,  when  busi 
ness  was  urgent,  and  all  the  men  worked  till  late  in  the  evening, 
Horace,  instead  of  returning  immediately  after  tea,  as  his  custom 
was,  was  absent  from  the  office  for  two  hours.  Between  eight  and 
nine,  when  by  chance  all  the  men  were  gathered  about  the  l  com 
posing  stone,'  upon  which  a  strong  light  was  thrown,  a  strange 
figure  entered  the  office,  a  tall  gentleman,  dressed  in  a  complete  suit 
of  faded  broadcloth,  and  a  shabby,  over-brushed  beaver  hat,  from 
beneath  which  depended  long  and  snowy  locks.  The  garments 
were  fashionably  cut ;  the  coat  was  in  the  style  of  a  swallow's 
tail ;  the  figure  was  precisely  that  of  an  old  gentleman  who  had 
seen  better  days.  It  advanced  from  the  darker  parts  of  the  office, 
and  emerged  slowly  into  the  glare  around  the  composing  stone. 
The  men  l9oked  inquiringly.  The  figure  spread  out  its  hands, 
looked  down  at  its  habiliments  with  an  air  of  infinite  complacency, 
and  said, — 

"  Well,  boys,  and  how  do  you  like  me  now  2" 

"  Why,  it 's  Greeley,"  screamed  one  of  the  men. 

It  was  Greeley,  metamorphosed  into  a  decayed  gentleman  by  a 
second-hand  suit  of  black,  bought  of  a  Chatham-street  Jew  for  five 
dollars, 

A  shout  arose,  such  as  had  never  before  been  heard  at  staid  and 
regular  85  Chatham-street.  Cheer  upon  cheer  was  given,  and  meu 


PRACTICAL   JOKES.  129 

laughed  till  the  tears  came,  the  venerable  gentleman  being  as  happy 
as  the  happiest. 

"  Greeley,  you  must  treat  upon  that  suit,  and  no  mistake,''  eaid 
one. 

"  Oh,  of  course,"  said  everybody  else. 

"  Come  along,  boys ;  I  '11  treat,"  was  Horace's  ready  response. 

All  the  company  repaired  to  the  old  grocery  on  the  corner  of 
Duane-street,  and  there  each  individual  partook  of  the  beverage 
that  pleased  him,  the  treater  indulging  in  a  glass  of  spruce  beer. 
Posterity  may  as  well  know,  and  take  warning  from  the  fact,  that 
this  five-dollar  suit  was  a  failure.  It  had  been  worn  thin,  and  had 
been  washed  in  blackened  water  and  ironed  smooth.  A  week'a 
wear  brought  out  all  its  pristine  shabbiness,  and  developed  new. 

Our  hero  was  not,  perhaps,  quite  so  indifferent  to  his  personal  ap 
pearance  as  he  seemed.  One  day,  when  Colonel  Porter  happened 
to  remark  that  his  hair  had  once  been  as  white  as  Horace  Greeley's, 
Horace  said  with  great  earnestness,  "Was  it?" — as  though  he  drew 
from  that  fact  a  hope  that  his  own  hair  might  darken  as  he  grew 
older.  And  on  another  occasion,  when  he  had  just  returned  from  a 
visit  to  New-Hampshire,  he  said,  "Well,  I  have  been  up  in  the 
country  among  my  cousins ;  they  are  all  good-looking  young  men 
enough ;  I  do  n't  see  why  I  should  be  such  a  curious-looking  fel 
low." 

One  or  two  other  incidents  which  occurred  at  West's  are  perhaps 
worth  telling;  for  one  well-authenticated  fact,  though  apparently 
of  trifling  importance,  throws  more  light  upon  character  than  pages 
of  general  reminiscence. 

It  was  against  the  rules  of  the  office  for  a  compositor  to  enter  the 
press-room,  which  adjoined  the  composing-room.  Our  hero,  how 
ever,  went  on  one  occasion  to  the  forbidden  apartment  to  speak  to 
a  friend  who  worked  there  upon  a  hand-press  that  was  exceedingly 
hard  to  pull. 

"Greeley,"  said  one  of  the  men,  "you're  a  pretty  stout  fellow, 
but  you  can 't  pull  back  that  lever." 

"  Can 't  I  ?"  said  Horace ;  "  I  can." 

"  Try  it,  then,"  said  the  mischief-maker. 

The  press  was  arranged  in  such  a  manner  that  the  lever  offered 
no  resistance  whatever,  and,  consequently,  when  Horace  seized  it, 

6* 


130  ARRIVAL   IN   NEW    YORK. 

and  cohected  all  his  strength  for  a  tremendous  effort,  he  fell  back 
wards  on  the  floor  with  great  violence,  and  brought  away  a  large 
part  of  the  press  with  him.  There  was  a  thundering  noise,  and  all 
the  house  came  running  to  see  what  was  the  matter.  Horace  got 
up,  pale  and  trembling  from  the  concussion. 

"  Now,  that  was  too  bad,"  said  he. 

He  stood  his  ground,  however,  while  the  man  who  had  played 
the  trick  gave  the  *  boss'  a  fictitious  explanation  of  the  mishap,  with 
out  mentioning  the  name  of  the  apparent  offender.  When  all  was 
quiet  again,  Horace  went  privately  to  the  pressman  and  offered  to 
pay  his  share  of  the  damage  done  to  the  press ! 

With  Mr.  West,  Horace  had  little  intercourse,  and  yet  they  did 
on  several  occasions  come  into  collision.  Mr.  West,  like  all  other 
bosses  and  men,  had  a  weakness ;  it  was  commas.  He  loved  com 
mas,  he  was  a  stickler  for  commas,  he  was  irritable  on  the  subject 
of  commas,  he  thought  more  of  commas  than  any  other  point  of 
prosody,  and  above  all,  he  was  of  opinion  that  he  knew  more  about 
commas  than  Horace  Greeley.  Horace  had,  on  his  part,  no  objec 
tion  to  commas,  but  he  loved  them  in  moderation,  and  was  deter 
mined  to  keep  them  in  their  place.  Debates  ensued.  The  journey 
man  expounded  the  subject,  and  at  length,  after  much  argument, 
convinced  his  employer  that  a  redundancy  of  commas  was  possible, 
and,  in  short,  that  he,  the  journeyman,  knew  how  to  preserve  the 
balance  of  power  between  the  various  points,  without  the  assist 
ance  or  advice  of  any  boss  or  man  in  Chatham,  or  any  other  street. 
There  was,  likewise,  a  certain  professor  whose  book  was  printed  in 
the  office,  and  who  often  came  to  read  the  proofs.  It  chanced  that 
Horace  set  up  a  few  pages  of  this  book,  and  took  the  liberty  of  al 
tering  a  few  phrases  that  seemed  to  him  inelegant  or  incorrect.  The 
professor  was  indignant,  and  though  he  was  not  so  ignorant  as 
not  to  perceive  that  his  language  had  been  altered  for  the  better,  he 
thought  it  due  to  his  dignity  to  apply  opprobrious  epithets  to  the 
impertinent  compositor.  The  compositor  argued  the  matter,  but 
did  not  appease  the  great  man. 

Soon  after  obtaining  work,  our  friend  found  a  better  boarding- 
house,  at  least  a  more  convenient  one.  On  the  corner  of  Duane- 
street  and  Chatham  there  was,  at  that  time,  a  large  building,  oc 
cupied  below  as  a  grocery  and  bar-room,  the  upper  stories  as  a  '  e- 


*a.&  SHOEMAKER'S  BOARDING-HOUSE.  131 

chanics'  boarding-house.  It  accommodated  about  fifty  boarders, 
most  of  whom  were  shoe-makers,  who  worked  in  their  own  rooms, 
or  in  shops  at  the  top  of  the  house,  and  paid,  for  room  and  board, 
two  dollars  and  a  half  per  week.  This  was  the  house  to  which 
Horace  Greeley  removed,  a  few  days  after  his  arrival  in  the  city, 
and  there  he  lived  for  more  than  two  years.  The  reader  of  the 
Tribune  may,  perhaps,  remember,  that  its  editor  has  frequently  dis 
played  a  particular  acquaintance  with  the  business  of  shoe-making, 
and  drawn  many  illustrations  of  the  desirableness  and  feasibility 
of  association  from  the  excessive  labor  and  low  wages  of  shoe 
makers.  It  was  at  this  house  that  he  learned  the  mysteries  of  the 
craft.  He  was  accustomed  to  go  up  into  the  shops,  and  sit  among 
the  men  while  waiting  for  dinner.  It  was  here,  too,  that  he  obtain 
ed  that  general  acquaintance  with  the  life  and  habits  of  city  me 
chanics,  which  has  enabled  him  since  to  address  them  so  wisely 
and  so  convincingly.  He  is  remembered  by  those  who  lived  with 
him  there,  only  as  a  very  quiet,  thoughtful,  studious  young  man, 
one  who  gave  no  trouble,  never  went  out l  to  spend  the  evening,* 
and  read  nearly  every  minute  when  he  was  not  working  or  eating. 
The  late  Mr.  Wilson,  of  the  Brother  Jonathan,  who  was  his  room 
mate  for  some  months,  used  to  say,  that  often  he  went  to  bed  leav 
ing  his  companion  absorbed  in  a  book,  and  when  he  awoke  in  the 
morning,  saw  him  exactly  in  the  same  position  and  attitude,  as 
though  he  had  not  moved  all  night.  He  had  not  read  all  night, 
however,  but  had  risen  to  his  book  with  the  dawn.  Soon  after 
sunrise,  he  went  over  the  way  to  his  work. 

Another  of  Mr.  Wilson's  reminiscences  is  interesting.  The 
reader  is  aware,  perhaps,  from  experience,  that  people  who  pay  only 
two  dollars  and  a  half  per  week  for  board  and  lodging  are  not  pro 
vided  with  all  the  luxuries  of  the  season ;  and  that,  not  unfrequent- 
ly,  a  desire  for  something  delicious  steals  over  the  souls  of  boarders, 
particularly  on  Sundays,  between  12,  M.  and  1,  P.M.  The  eating- 
house  revolution  had  then  just  begun,  and  the  institution  of  Dining 
Down  Town  was  set  up  ;  in  fact,  a  bold  man  established  a  Sixpenny 
Dining  Saloon  in  Beek  man  -street,  which  was  the  talk  of  the  shops 
in  the  winter  of  1831.  On  Sundays  Horace  and  his  friends,  after 
their  return  from  Mr.  Sawyer's  (Universalist)  church  in  Orchard- 
street,  were  ar-customed  to  repair  to  this  establishment,  and  indulge 


Ji32  ARRIVAL   IN   NEW   YORK. 

in  a  splendid  repast  at  a  cost  of,  at  least,  one  shilling  each,  rising 
on  some  occasions  to  eighteen  pence.  Their  talk  at  dinner  was  of 
the  soul-banquet,  the  sermon,  of  which  they  had  partaken  in  the 
morning,  and  it  was  a  custom  among  them  to  ascertain  who  could 
repeat  the  substance  of  it  most  correctly.  Horace  attended  that 
church  regularly,  in  those  days,  and  listened  to  the  sermon  with 
his  head  bent  forward,  his  eyes  upon  the  floor,  his  arms  folded,  and 
one  leg  swinging,  quite  in  his  old  class  attitude  at  the  Westhaven 
school. 

This,  then,  is  the  substance  of  what  his  companions  remember 
of  Horace  Greeley's  first  few  months  in  the  metropolis.  In  a  way 
so  homely  and  so  humble,  New  York's  most  distinguished  citizen, 
the  Country's  most  influential  man,  began  his  career. 

In  his  subsequent  writings  there  are  not  many  allusions  of  an  au 
tobiographical  nature  to  this  period.  The  following  is,  indeed,  the 
only  paragraph  of  the  kind  that  seems  worth  quoting.  It  is  valu 
able  as  throwing  light  upon  the  Tidbit  of  his  mind  at  this  time : — 

"  Fourteen  years  ago,  when  the  editor  of  the  TRIBUNE  came  to  this  city, 
there  w as  published  here  a  small  daily  paper  entitled  the  '  Sentinel,'  devoted 
to  the  cause  of  what  was  called  by  its  own  supporters  '  the  Working  Men's 
Party,'  and  by  its  opponents  c  the  Fanny  Wright  Working  Men.'  Of  that 
party  we  have  little  personal  knowledge,  but  at  the  head  of  the  paper,  among 
several  good  and  many  objectionable  avowals  of  principle,  was  borne  the  fol 
lowing  : 

"  '  Single  Districts  for  the  choice  of  each  Senator  and  Member  of  Assembly.1 
"  We  gave  this  proposition  some  attention  at  the  time,  and  came  to  the  con 
clusion  that  it  was  alike  sound  and  important.  It  mattered  little  to  us  that  it 
was  accompanied  and  surrounded  by  others  that  we  could  not  assent  to,  and 
was  propounded  by  a  party  with  which  we  had  no  acquaintance  and  little  sym 
pathy.  We  are  accustomed  to  welcome  truth,  from  whatever  quarter  it  may 
approach  us,  and  on  whatever  flag  it  may  be  inscribed.  Subsequent  experience 
has  fully  confirmed  our  original  impression,  and  now  we  have  little  doubt  that 
this  principle,  which  was  utterly  slighted  when  presented  under  unpopular 
auspices,  will  be  engrafted  on  our  reformed  Constitution  without  serious  oppo 
sition."— Trt&une,  Dec.,  1845. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

FROM  OFFICE  TO  OFFICE. 

Zjeaves  West's — Works  on  the  '  Evening  Post' — Story  of  Mr.  Leggett — '  Commercial 
Advertiser' — '  Spirit  of  the  Times' — Specimen  of  his  writing  at  this  period— Natu 
rally  fond  of  the  drama— Timothy  Wiggins— Works  for  Mr.  Redfleld— The  first 
lift. 

HORACE  GREELEY  was  a  journeyman  printer  in  this  city  for  four 
teen  months.  Those  months  need  not  detain  us  long  from  the  more 
eventful  periods  of  his  life. 

He  worked  for  Mr.  West  in  Chatham  street  till  about  the  first  of 
November  (1831).  Then  the  business  of  that  office  fell  off,  and  he 
was  again  a  seeker  for  employment.  He  obtained  a  place  in  the 
office  of  the  'Evening  Post,'  whence,  it  is  said,  he  was  soon  dis 
missed  by  the  late  Mr.  Leggett,  on  the  ground  of  his  sorry  appear 
ance.  The  story  current  among  printers  is  this :  Mr.  Leggett  came 
into  the  printing-office  for  the  purpose  of  speaking  to  the  man  whose 
place  Horace  Greeley  had  taken. 

"  Where 's  Jones  ?"  asked  Mr.  Leggett. 

"  He  's  gone  away,"  replied  one  of  the  men. 

"  Who  has  taken  his  place,  then  ?"  said  the  irritable  editor. 

"  There 's  the  man,"  said  some  one,  pointing  to  Horace,  who  was 
4  bobbing'  at  the  case  in  his  peculiar  way. 

Mr.  Leggett  looked  at  *  the  man,'  and  said  to  the  foreman,  "  For 
God's  sake  discharge  him,  and  let 's  have  decent- looking  men  in  the 
office,  at  least." 

Horace  was  accordingly — so  goes  the  story — discharged  at  the 
end  of  the  week. 

He  worked,  also,  for  a  few  days  upon  the  *  Commercial  Adver 
tiser,'  as  a  *  sub,'  probably.  Then,  for  two  weeks  and  a  half,  upon 
a  little  paper  called  *  The  Amulet,'  a  weekly  journal  of  literature 
and  art.  The  '  Amulet'  was  discontinued,  and  our  hero  had  to  wait 
ten  years  for  his  wages. 

His  next  step  can  be  given  in  his  own  words.    The  follr  iving  is 


134  FROM    OFFICE    TO    OFFICE. 

the  beginning  of  a  paragraph  in  the  New  Yorker  of  March  2d, 
1839: 

"  Seven  years  ago,  on  the  first  of  January  last — that  being  a  holi 
day,  and  the  writer  being  then  a  stranger  with  few  social  greetings 
to  exchange  in  New  York — he  inquired  his  way  into  the  ill-furnish 
ed,  chilly,  forlorn-looking  attic  printing-office  in  which  William  T. 
Porter,  in  company  with  another  very  young  man,  who  soon  after 
abandoned  the  enterprise,  had  just  issued  the  '  Spirit  of  the  Times,' 
the  first  weekly  journal  devoted  entirely  to  sporting  intelligence 
ever  attempted  in  this  country.  It  was  a  moderate-sized  sheet  of 
indifferent  paper,  with  an  atrocious  wood-cut  for  the  head — about 
as  uncomely  a  specimen  of  the  '  fine  arts'  as  our  '  native  talent'  has 
produced.  The  paper  was  about  in  proportion ;  for  neither  of  its 
conductors  had  fairly  attained  his  majority,  and  each  was  destitute 
of  the  experience  so  necessary  in  such  an  enterprise,  and  of  the 
funds  and  extensive  acquaintance  which  were  still  more  necessary 
to  its  success.  But  one  of  them  possessed  a  persevering  spirit  and 
an  ardent  enthusiasm  for  the  pursuit  to  which  he  had  devoted  him 
self." 

And,  consequently,  the  l  Spirit  of  the  Times'  still  exists  and  flour 
ishes,  under  the  proprietorship  of  its  originator  and  founder,  Colonel 
Porter.  For  this  paper,  our  hero,  during  his  short  stay  in  the  offioe, 
composed  a  multitude  of  articles  and  paragraphs,  most  of  them 
short  and  unimportant.  As  a  specimen  of  his  style  at  this  period, 
I  copy  from  the  '  Spirit'  of  May  5th,  1832,  the  following  epistle, 
which  was  considered  extremely  funny  in  those  innocent  days : 

"  MESSRS.  EDITORS  : — Hear  me  you  shall,  pity  me  you  must,  while  I  pro 
ceed  to  give  a  short  account  of  the  dread  calamities  which  this  vile  habit  of 
turning  the  whole  city  upside  down,  'tother  side  out,  and  wrong  side  before, 
on  the  First  of  May,  has  brought  down  on  my  devoted  head. 

"  You  must  know,  that  having  resided  but  a  few  months  in  your  city,  I  was 
totally  ignorant  of  the  existence  of  said  custom.  So,  on  the  morning  of  the 
eventful,  and  to  me  disastrous  day,  I  rose,  according  to  immemorial  usage, 
at  the  dying  away  of  the  last  echo  of  the  breakfast  bell,  and  soon  found  my 
self  seated  over  my  coffee,  and  my  good  landlady  exercising  her  powers  of 
volubility  (no  weak  ones)  apparently  in  my  behalf;  but  so  deep  was  the  rev 
erie  in  which  my  half-awakened  brain  was  then  engaged,  that  I  did  not  catch 
a  single  idea  from  the  whole  of  her  discourse.  I  smiled  and  said,  "Yes, 
ma'am,"  "certainly  ma'am,"  at  each  pause  ;  and  having  speedily  dispatched 


NATURALLY  FOND  OF  THE  DRAMA.  135 

my  breakfast,  sallied  immediately  out,  and  proceeded  to  attend  to  the  busi 
ness  which  engrossed  my  mind.  Dinner-time  came,  but  no  time  for  dinner; 
and  it  was  late  before  I  was  at  liberty  to  wend  my  way,  over  wheel-barrows, 
barrels,  and  all  manner  of  obstructions,  towards  my  boarding-house.  All  here 
was  still ;  but  by  the  help  of  my  night-keys,  I  soon  introduced  myself  to  my 
chamber,  dreaming  of  nothing  but  sweet  repose  ;  when,  horrible  to  relate ! 
my  ears  were  instantaneously  saluted  by  a  most  piercing  female  shriek,  pro 
ceeding  exactly  from  my  own  bed,  or  at  least  from  the  place  where  it  should 
have  been  ;  and  scarcely  had  sufficient  time  elapsed  for  my  hair  to  bristle  on 
my  head,  before  the  shriek  was  answered  by  the  loud  vociferations  of  a  fero 
cious  mastiff  in  the  kitchen  beneath,  and  re-echoed  by  the  outcries  of  half  a 
dozen  inmates  of  the  house,  and  these  again  succeeded  by  the  rattle  of  the 
watchman  ;  and  the  next  moment,  there  was  a  round  dozen  of  them  (besides 
the  dog)  at  my  throat,  and  commanding  me  to  tell  them  instantly  what  the 
devil  all  this  meant. 

"  You  do  well  to  ask  that,"  said  I,  as  soon  as  I  could  speak,  "  after  falling 
upon  me  in  this  fashion  in  my  own  chamber." 

"  0  take  him  off,"  said  the  one  who  assumed  to  be  the  master  of  the 
house ;  " perhaps  he 's  not  a  thief  after  all;  but,  being  too  tipsy  for  starlight, 
he  has  made  a  mistake  in  trying  to  find  his  lodgings," — and  in  spite  of  all 
my  remonstrances,  I  was  forthwith  marched  off  to  the  watch-house,  to  pass 
the  remainder  of  the  night.  In  the  morning,  I  narrowly  escaped  commitment 
on  the  charge  of  '  burglary  with  intent  to  steal  (I  verily  believe  it  would  have 
gone  hard  with  me  if  the  witnesses  could  have  been  got  there  at  that  unseason 
able  hour),  and  I  was  finally  discharged  with  a  solemn  admonition  to  guard 
for  the.  future  against  intoxication  (think  of  that,  sir,  for  a  member  of  the 
Cold  Water  Society !) 

"  I  spent  the  next  day  in  unraveling  the  mystery ;  and  found  that  my  land 
lord  had  removed  his  goods  and  chattels  to  another  part  of  the  city,  on  the 
established  day,  supposing  me  to  be  previously  acquainted  and  satisfied  with 
his  intention  of  so  doing;  and  another  family  had  immediately  taken  his 
place  ;  of  which  changes,  my  absence  of  mind  and  absence  from  dinner  had 
kept  me  ignorant ;  and  thus  had  I  been  led  blindfold  into  a  '  Comedy '  (or 
rather  tragedy)  of  Errors.  Your  unfortunate, 

"TIMOTHY  WIGGINS." 


His  connection  with  the  office  of  a  sporting  paper  procured  him 
occasionally  an  order  for  admission  to  a  theater,  which  he  used. 
He  appeared  to  have  had  a  natural  liking  for  the  drama  ;  all  intel 
ligent  persons  have  when  they  are  young ;  and  one  of  his  compan 
ions  of  that  day  remembers  well  the  intense  interest  with  which  he 
once  witne<^ed  the  performance  of  Richard  III.,  at  the  old  Chat- 


136  FROM    OFFICE    TO    OFFICE. 

ham  theater.  At  the  close  of  the  play,  he  said  there  was  another 
of  Shakespeare's  tragedies  which  he  had  long  wished  to  see,  and 
that  was  Hamlet. 

Soon  after  writing  his  letter,  the  luckless  Wiggins,  tempted  by 
the  prospect  of  better  wages,  left  the  Spirit  of  the  Times,  and  went 
back  to  West's,  and  worked  for  some  weeks  on  Prof.  Bush's  Notes 
on  Genesis,  '  the  worst  manuscript  ever  seen  in  a  printing-office. 
That  finished,  he  returned  to  the  Spirit  of  the  Times,  and  remained 
till  October,  when  he  went  to  visit  his  relatives  in  New  Hampshire. 
He  reached  his  uncle's  farm  in  Londonderry  in  the  apple-gathering 
season,  and  going  at  once  to  the  orchard  found  his  cousins  engaged 
in  that  pleasing  exercise.  Horace  jumped  over  the  fence,  saluted 
them  in  the  hearty  and  unornamental  Scotch-Irish  style,  sprang  in 
to  a  tree,  and  assisted  them  till  their  task  for  the  day  was  done,  and 
then  all  the  party  went  frolicking  into  the  woods  on  a  grape-hunt 
Horace  was  a  welcome  guest.  He  was  full  of  fun  in  those  days, 
and  kept  the  boys  roaring  with  his  stories,  or  agape  with  descrip 
tions  of  city  scenes. 

Back  to  the  city  again  early  in  November,  in  time  and  on  pur 
pose  to  vote  at  the  fall  elections. 

He  went  to  work,  soon  after,  for  Mr.  J.  S.  Redfield,  now  an  emi 
nent  publisher  of  this  city,  then  a  stereotyper.  Mr.  Redfield  favors 
me  with  the  following  note  of  his  connection  with  Horace  Greeley  : 
— "  My  recollections  of  Mr.  Greeley  extend  from  about  the  time  he 
first  came  to  the  city  to  work  as  a  compositor.  I  was  carrying  on 
the  stereotyping  business  in  William  street,  and  having  occasion  one 
day  for  more  compositors,  one  of  the  hands  brought  in  Greeley,  re 
marking  '  sotto  voce '  as  he  introduced  him,  that  he  was  a  "  boy 
ish  and  rather  odd  looking  genius,"  (to  which  remark  I  had  no  diffi 
culty  in  assenting,)  *  but  he  had  understood  that  he  was  a  good 
workman.'  Being  much  in  want  of  help  at  the  time,  Greeley  was 
set  to  work,  and  I  was  not  a  little  surprised  to  find  on  Saturday 
night,  that  his  bills  were  much  larger  than  those  of  any  other  com 
positor  in  the  office,  and  oftentimes  nearly  double  those  at  work  by 
the  side  of  him  on  the  same  work.  He  would  accomplish  this, 
too,  and  talk  all  the  time  !  The  same  untiring  industry,  and  the 
fearlessness  and  independence,  which  have  characterized  his 


THE    FIRST    PENNY    PAPER.  137 

course  as  Editor  of  the  New  York  Tribune,  were  the  distinguishing 
features  of  his  character  as  a  journeyman." 

He  remained  in  the  office  of  Mr.  Redfield  till  late  in  December, 
when  the  circumstance  occurred  which  gave  him  his  FIRST  LIFT  in 
the  world.  There  is  a  tide,  it  is  said,  in  the  affairs  of  every  man, 
once  in  his  life,  which  taken  at  the  flood  leads  on  to  fortune. 

Horace  Greeley's  First  Lift  happened  to  take  place  in  connection 
with  an  event  of  great,  world-wide  and  lasting  consequence ;  yet 
one  which  has  never  been  narrated  to  the  public.  It  shall,  there 
fore,  have  in  this  work  a  short  chapter  to  itself. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  FIRST  PENNY  PAPEK — AND  WHO  THOUGHT  OF  IT. 

Importance  of  the  cheap  daily  press— The  originator  of  the  idea— History  of  the  idea 
— Dr.  Sheppard's  Chatham-street  cogitations — The  Idea  is  conceived — It  is  born — 
Interview  with  Horace  Greeley—  The  Doctor  thinks  he  is  '  no  common  boy'— The 
schemer  baffled— Daily  papers  twenty-five  years  ago— Dr.  Sheppard  comes  to  a 
resolution.— The  firm  of  Greeley  and  Story— The  Morning  Post  appears— And  fails 
— The  sphere  of  the  cheap  press — Fanny  Fern  and  the  pea-nut  merchant. 

WHEN  the  Historian  of  the  United  States  shall  have  completed 
the  work  that  has  occupied  so  many  busy  and  anxious  years, 
and,  in  the  tranquil  solitude  of  his  study,  he  reviews  the  long  series 
of  events  which  he  has  narrated,  the  question  may  arise  in  his 
mind, — Which  of  the  events  that  occurred  during  the  first  seventy 
years  of  the  Republic  is  likely  to  exert  the  greatest  and  moat  last 
ing  influence  upon  its  future  history  ?  Surely,  he  will  not  pause 
long  for  a  reply.  For,  there  is  one  event,  which  stands  out  so 
prominently  beyond  and  above  all  others,  the  consequences  of  which, 
to  this  country  and  all  other  countries,  must  be  so  immense,  and, 
finally,  so  beneficial,  that  no  other  can  be  seriously  placed  in  com 
petition  with  it.  It  was  the  establishment  of  the  first  penny  daily 
paper  in  the  city  of  New  York  in  the  year  1833.  Its  results,  in  this 
country,  ha^e  already  been  wonderful  indeed,  and  it  is  destined  tc 


l38  THE    FIRST    PENNY   PAPER. 

play  a  great  part  in  the  history  of  every  civilized  nation,  and  in 
that  of  every  nation  yet  to  be  civilized. 

Not  that  Editors  are,  in  all  cases,  or  in  most,  the  wisest  of  men ; 
not  that  editorial  writing  has  a  greater  value  than  hasty  composition 
in  general.  Editors  are  a  useful,  a  laborious,  a  generous,  an  honor 
able  class  of  men  and  women,  and  their  writings  have  their  due 
effect.  But,  that  part  of  the  newspaper  which  interests,  awakens, 
moves,  warns,  inspires,  instructs  and  educates  all  classes  and  con 
ditions  of  people,  the  wise  and  the  unwise,  the  illiterate  and  the 
learned,  is  the  NEWS  !  And  the  News,  the  same  news,  at  nearly  the 
same  instant  of  time,  is  communicated  to  all  the  people  of  this 
fair  and  vast  domain  which  we  inherit,  by  the  instrumentality 
of  the  Cheap  Press,  aided  by  its  allies  the  Rail  and  the  Wire. 

A  catastrophe  happens  to-day  in  New  York.  New  Orleans 
shudders  to-morrow  at  the  recital ;  and  the  Nation  shudders  before 
the  week  ends.  A  *  Great  Word,'  uttered  on  any  stump  in  the 
land,  soon  illuminates  a  million  minds.  A  bad  deed  is  perpetrated, 
and  the  shock  of  disgust  flies  with  electric  rapidity  from  city  to 
city,  from  State  to  State — from  the  heart  that  records  it  to  every 
heart  that  beats.  A  gallant  deed  or  a  generous  one  is  done,  or  a 
fruitful  idea  is  suggested,  and  it  falls,  like  good  seed  which  the 
wind  scatters,  over  all  the  land  at  once.  Leave  the  city  on  a 
day  when  some  stirring  news  is  rife,  travel  as  far  and  as  fast  as 
you  may,  rest  not  by  day  nor  night ;  you  cannot  easily  get  where 
that  News  is  not,  where  it  is  not  the  theme  of  general  thought  and 
talk,  where  it  is  not  doing  its  part  in  informing,  or,  at  least,  exciting 
the  public  mind.  Abandon  the  great  lines  of  travel,  go  rocking  in 
a  stage  over  corduroy  roads,  through  the  wilderness,  to  the  newest 
of  new  villages,  a  cluster  of  log-houses,  in  a  field  of  blackened 
stumps,  and  even  there  you  must  be  prompt  with  your  news,  or  it 
will  have  flown  out  from  a  bundle  of  newspapers  under  the  driver's 
seat,  and  fallen  in  flakes  all  over  the  settlement. 

The  Cheap  Press — its  importance  cannot  be  estimated !  It  puts 
every  mind  in  direct  communication  with  the  greatest  minds,  which 
all,  in  one  way  or  another,  speak  through  its  columns.  It  brings  the 
Course  of  Events  to  bear  on  the  progress  of  every  individual.  It  is 
the  great  leveler,  elevator  and  democraticizer.  It  makes  this  huge 
Commonwealth,  else  so  heterogeneous  and  disunited,  think  with  one 


THE    ORIGINATOR    OF   THE   IDEA.  139 

mind,  feel  with  one  heart,  and  talk  with  one  tongue.  Dissolve  the 
Union  into  a  hundred  petty  States,  and  the  Press  will  still  keep  us. 
in  heart  and  soul  and  habit,  One  People. 

Pardon  this  slight  digression,  dear  reader.  Pardon  it,  because 
the  beginnings  of  the  greatest  things  are,  in  appearance,  so  insig 
nificant,  that  unless  we  look  at  them  in  the  light  of  their  conse 
quences,  it  is  impossible  to  take  an  interest  in  them. 

There  are  not,  I  presume,  twenty-five  persons  alive,  who  know 
in  whose  head  it  was,  that  the  idea  of  a  cheap  daily  paper  origin 
ated.  Nor  has  the  proprietor  of  that  head  ever  derived  from  his 
idea,  which  has  enriched  so  many  others,  the  smallest  pecuniary 
advantage.  He  walks  these  streets,  this  day,  an  unknown  man,  and 
poor.  His  name — the  reader  may  forget  it,  History  will  not — is 
HORATIO  DAVIS  SHEPPARD.  The  story  of  his  idea,  amply  confirmed 
in  every  particular  by  living  and  unimpeachable  witnesses,  is  the 
following : 

About  the  year  1830,  Mr.  Sheppard,  recently  come  of  age  and 
into  the  possession  of  fifteen  hundred  dollars,  moved  from  his  native 
"New  Jersey  to  New  York,  and  entered  the  Eldridge  Street  Medical 
School  as  a  student  of  medicine.  He  was  ambitious  and  full  of 
ideas.  Of  course,  therefore,  his  fifteen  hundred  dollars  burned  in  his 
vest  pocket — (where  he  actually  used  to  carry  it,  until  a  fellow  stu 
dent  almost  compelled  him  to  deposit  it  in  a  place  of  safety).  He 
took  to  dabbling  in  newspapers  and  periodicals,  a  method  of  getting 
rid  of  superfluous  cash,  which  is  as  expeditious  as  it  is  fascinating. 
He  soon  had  an  interest  in  a  medical  magazine,  and  soon  after,  a 
share  in  a  weekly  paper.  By  the  time  he  had  completed  his  medi 
cal  studies,  he  had  gained  some  insight  into  the  nature  of  the  news 
paper  business,  and  lost  the  greater  part  of  his  money. 

People  who  live  in  Eldridge  street,  when  they  have  occasion  to 
go  'down  tovvn,'  must  necessarily  pass  through  Chatham  street,  a 
thoroughfare  which  is  noted,  among  many  other  things,  for  the  ex 
traordinary  number  of  articles  which  are  sold  in  it  for  a  '  penny  a 
piece.'  Apple-stalls,  peanut-stalls,  stalls  for  the  sale  of  oranges, 
melons,  pine-apples,  cocoanuts,  chestnuts,  «andy,  shoe-laces,  cakes, 
pocket-combs,  ice-cream,  suspenders,  lemonade,  and  oysters,  line 
the  sidewalk.  In  Chatham  street,  those  small  trades  are  carried  on, 
on  a  scale  of  magnitude,  with  a  loudness  of  vociferation,  and  a 


140  THE   FIRST   PENNY    PAPER. 

flare  of  lamp-light,  unknown  to  any  other  part  of  the  town.  Along 
Chatham  street,  our  medical  student  ofttimes  took  his  way,  musing 
on  the  instability  of  fifteen  hundred  dollars,  and  observing,  possibly 
envying,  the  noisy  merchants  of  the  stalls.  He  was  struck  with 
the  rapidity  with  which  they  sold  their  penny  ware.  A  small  boy 
would  sell  half  a  dozen  penny  cakes  in  the  course  of  a  minute. 
The  dif  erence  between  a  cent,  and  no  money,  did  not  seem  to  be 
appreciated  by  the  people.  If  a  person  saw  something,  wanted  it, 
knew  the  price  to  be  only  a  cent,  he  was  almost  as  certain  to  buy 
it  as  though  it  were  offered  him  for  nothing.  Now,  thought  he,  to 
make  a  fortune,  one  has  nothing  more  to  do  than  to  produce  a 
tempting  article  which  can  be  sold  profitably  for  a  cent,  place  it 
where  everybody  can  see  it,  and  buy  it,  without  stopping — and  lo  I 
the  thing  is  done  !  If  it  were  only  possible  to  produce  a  small,  spicy 
i &\\y  paper  for  a  cent,  and  get  boys  to  sell  it  about  the  streets,  how 
it  would  sell !  How  many  pennies  that  now  go  for  cakes  and  pea 
nuts  would  be  spent  for  news  and  paragraphs ! 

The  idea  was  born— the  twin  ideas  of  the  penny  paper  and  the 
newsboy.  But,  like  the  young  of  the  kangaroo,  they  crawled  into 
the  mental  pouch  of  the  teeming  originator,  and  nestled  there  for 
months,  before  they  were  fully  formed  and  strong  enough  to  con 
front  the  world. 

Perhaps  it  is  possible,  continued  the  musing  man  of  medicine,  on 
a  subsequent  walk  in  Chatham  street.  He  went  to  a  paper  ware 
house,  and  made  inquiries  touching  the  price  of  the  cheaper  kinds 
of  printing  paper.  He  figured  up  the  cost  of  composition.  He 
computed  office  expenses  and  editorial  salaries.  He  estimated  the 
probable  circulation  of  a  penny  paper,  and  the  probable  income  to 
be  derived  from  advertising.  Surely,  he  could  sell  four  or  five 
thousand  a  day !  There,  for  instance,  is  a  group  of  people ;  suppose 
a  boy  were  at  this  moment  to  go  up  to  them  with  an  armful  of  pa 
pers,  '  only  one  cent,'  I  am  positive,  thought  the  sanguine  projector, 
that  six  of  the  nine  would  buy  a  copy  !  His  conclusion  was,  that 
lie  could  produce  a  newspaper  about  twice  the  size  of  an  average 
sheet  of  letter-paper,  half  paragraphs  and  half  advertisements,  and 
«ell  it  at  a  cent  per  copy,  with  an  ample  profit  to  himself.  He  was 
ture  of  it !  He  had  tried  all  his  arithmetic  upon  tbe  project,  and 
fcLe  figures  gave  the  same  result  always.  The  twins  leape'1  from 


DAILY   PAPERS    TWENTY-FIVE    YEARS   AGO.  141 

the  pouch,  and  taking  their  progenitor  by  the  throat,  led  him  a  fine 
dance  before  he  could  shake  them  off.  For  the  present,  they  pos 
sessed  him  wholly. 

As  most  of  his  little  inheritance  had  vanished,  it  was  necessary 
for  him  to  interest  some  one  in  the  scheme  who  had  either  capital 
or  a  printing  office.  The  Spirit  of  the  Times  was  then  in  its  infan 
cy.  To  the  office  of  that  paper,  where  Horace  Greeley  was  then  a 
journeyman,  Mr.  Sheppard  first  directed  his  steps,  and  there  he 
first  unfolded  his  plans  and  exhibited  his  calculations.  Mr.  Greeley 
was  not  present  on  his  first  entrance.  He  came  in  soon  after,  and 
began  telling  in  high  glee  a  story  he  had  picked  up  of  old  Isaac  Hill, 
who  used  to  read  his  speeches  in  the  House,  and  one  day  brought  the 
wrong  speech,  and  got  upon  his  legs,  and  half  way  into  a  sAvelling  ex 
ordium  before  he  discovered  his  mistake.  The  narrator  told  his  sto 
ry  extremely  well,  taking  off  the  embarrassment  of  the  old  gentleman 
as  he  gradually  came  to  the  knowledge  of  his  misfortune,  to  the  life. 
The  company  were  highly  amused,  and  Mr.  Sheppard  said  to  him 
self,  " That 's  no  common  Joy."  Perhaps  it  was  an  unfortunate  mo 
ment  to  introduce  a  bold  and  novel  idea ;  but  it  is  certain  that  every 
individual  present,  from  the  editor  to  the  devil,  regarded  the  notion 
of  a  penny  paper  as  one  of  extreme  absurdity, — foolish,  ridiculous, 
frivolous!  They  took  it  as  a  joke,  and  the  schemer  took  nis 
leave. 

Nor  is  it  at  all  surprising  that  they  should  have  regarded  ic  in 
that  light.  A  daily  newspaper  in  those  days  was  a  solemn  thing. 
People  in  moderate  circumstances  seldom  saw,  never  bought  one. 
The  price  was  ten  dollars  a  year.  Cut  the  present  Journal  of  Com 
merce  in  halves,  fold  it,  fancy  on  its  second  page  half  a  column  of 
serious  editorial,  a  column  of  news,  half  a  column  of  business  and 
shipping  intelligence,  and  the  rest  of  the  ample  sheet  cover afl  with 
advertisements,  and  you  have  before  your  mind's  eye  the  New  York 
daily  paper  of  twenty-five  years  ago.  It  "Yas  not  a  thing  for  the 
people  ;  it  appertained  to  the  counting-house ;  it  was  taken  by  the 
wholesale  dealer ;  it  was  cumbrous,  heavy,  solemn.  The  idea  of 
making  it  an  article  to  be  cried  about  the  streets,  to  be  sold  for  a 
cent,  to  be  bought  by  workingmen  and  boys,  to  come  into  competi 
tion  with  cakes  and  apples,  must  have  seemed  to  the  respectable 
New  Yorkers  of  1831,  unspeakably  absurd.  When  the  respectable 


142  THE   FIRST   PENNY   PAPER. 

New  Yorker  first  saw  a  penny  paper,  he  gazed  at  it  (I  saw  him) 
with  a  feeling  similar  to  that  with  which  an  ill-natured  man  may 
be  supposed  to  regard  General  Tom  Thumh,  a  feeling  of  mingled 
curiosity  and  contempt ;  he  put  the  ridiculous  little  thing  into  his 
waistcoat  pocket  to  carry  home  for  the  amusement  of  his  family  ; 
and  he  wondered  what  nonsense  would  be  perpetrated  next. 

Dr.  Sheppard — he  had  now  taken  his  degree — was  not  disheart 
ened  by  the  merry  reception  of  his  idea  at  the  office  of  the  Spirit  of  the 
Times.  He  went  to  other  offices — to  nearly  every  other  office  I  For 
eighteen  months  it  was  his  custom,  whenever  opportunity  offered, 
to  expound  his  project  to  printers  and  editors,  and,  in  fact,  to  any 
one  who  would  listen  to  him  long  enough.  He  could  not  convince 
one  man  of  the  feasibility  of  his  scheme, — not  one  !  A  few  people 
thought  it  a  good  idea  for  the  instruction  of  the  million,  and  recom 
mended  him  to  get  some  society  to  take  hold  of  it.  But  not  a 
human  being  could  be  brought  to  believe  that  it  would  pay  as  a 
business,  and  only  a  few  of  the  more  polite  and  complaisant  printers 
could  be  induced  to  consider  the  subject  in  a  serious  light  at  all. 

Reader,  possessed  with  an  Idea,  reader,  'in  a  minority  of  one,' 
take  courage  from  the  fact. 

Despairing  of  getting  the  assistance  he  required,  Dr.  Sheppard 
resolved,  at  length,  to  make  a  desperate  effort  to  start  the  paper 
himself.  His  means  were  fifty  dollars  in  cash  and  a  promise  of 
credit  for  two  hundred  dollars'  worth  of  paper.  Among  his 
printer  friends  was  Mr.  Francis  Story,  the  foreman  of  the  Spirit 
of  the  Times  office,  who,  about  that  time,  was  watching  for 
an  opportunity  to  get  into  business  on  his  own  account.  To  him 
Dr.  Sheppard  announced  his  intention,  and  proposed  that  he  should 
establish  an  office  and  print  the  forthcoming  paper,  offering  to  pay 
the  bhM  for  composition  every  Saturday.  Mr.  Story  hesitated ;  but, 
on  obtaining  from  Mr.  Sylvester  a  promise  of  the  printing  of  his 
Bank  Note  Reporter,  he  embraced  Dr.  Sheppard's  proposal,  and 
offered  Horace  Greeley,  for  whom  he  had  long  entertained  a  warm 
friendship  and  a  great  admiration,  an  equal  share  in  the  enterprise. 
Horace  was  not  favorably  impressed  with  Dr.  Sheppard's  scheme. 
In  the  first  place,  he  had  no  great  faith  in  the  practical  ability  of 
that  gentleman ;  and,  secondly,  he  was  of  opinion  that  the  smallest 
price  for  which  a  daily  paper  could  be  profitably  sold  was  two  cents. 


THE  FIRM  OF  GREELEY  AND  STORY.  143 

His  arguments  on  the  latter  point  did  not  convince  the  ardent  doc 
tor;  but,  with  the  hope  of  overcoming  his  scruples  and  enlisting 
his  co-operation,  he  consented  to  give  up  his  darling  idea,  and  fix 
the  price  of  his  paper  at  two  cents.  Horace  Greeley  agreed,  at 
length,  to  try  his  fortune  as  a  master  printer,  and  in  December,  the 
firm  of  Greeley  and  Story  was  formed. 

Now,  experience  has  since  proved  that  two  cents  is  the  best  price 
for  a  cheap  paper.  But  the  point,  the  charm,  the  impudence  of  Dr. 
Sheppard's  project  all  lay  in  those  magical  words,  '  PRICE  ONE 
CENT,'  which  his  paper  was  to  have  borne  on  its  heading — but  did 
not.  And  the  capital  to  be  invested  in  the  enterprise  was  so  ludi 
crously  inadequate,  that  it  was  necessary  for  the  paper  to  pay  at  once, 
or  cease  to  appear.  Horace  Greeley's  advice,  therefore,  though  good 
as  a  general  principle,  was  not  applicable  to  the  case  in  hand.  Not 
that  the  proposed  paper  would,  or  could,  have  succeeded  upon  any 
terms.  Its  failure  was  inevitable.  Dr.  Sheppard  is  one  of  those 
projectors  who  have  the  faculty  of  suggesting  the  most  valuable  and 
fruitful  ideas,  without  possessing,  in  any  degree,  the  qualities  need 
ful  for  their  realization. 

The  united  capital  of  the  two  printers  was  about  one  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars.  They  were  both,  however,  highly  respected  in  the  print 
ing  world,  and  both  had  friends  among  those  whose  operations  keep 
that  world  in  motion.  They  hired  part  of  a  small  office  at  No.  54 
Liberty  street.  Horace  Greeley's  candid  story  prevailed  with  Mr. 
George  Bruce,  the  great  type  founder,  so  far,  that  he  gave  the  new 
firm  credit  for  a  small  quantity  of  type — an  act  of  trust  and  kindness 
which  secured  him  one  of  the  best  customers  he  has  ever  had.  (To 
this  day  the  type  of  the  Tribune  is  supplied  by  Mr.  Bruce.)  Before 
the  new  year  dawned,  Greeley  and  Story  were  ready  to  execute 
every  job  of  printing  which  was  not  too  extensive  or  intricate,  on 
favorable  terms,  and  with  the  utmost  punctuality  and  dispatch. 

On  the  morning  of  January  1st,  1833,  the  MORNING  POST,  and  a 
snow-storm  of  almost  unexampled  fury,  came  upon  the  town  together. 
The  snow  was  a  wet  blanket  upon  the  hopes  of  newsboys  and  car 
riers,  and  quite  deadened  the  noise  of  the  new  paper,  filling  up 
areas,  and  burying  the  tiny  sheet  at  the  doors  of  its  few  subscribers. 
For  several  days  the  streets  were  obstructed  with  snow.  It  was 
very  cole1.  There  were  few  people  in  the  streets,  and  those  few 


144  THE    FIRST    PENNY   PAPER. 

were  not  easily  tempted  to  stop  and  fumble  in  their  pockets  for  two 
cents.  The  newsboys  were  soon  discouraged,  and  were  fain  to  run 
shivering  home.  Dr.  Sheppard  was  wholly  unacquainted  with  the 
details  of  editorship,  and  most  of  the  labor  of  getting  up  the  num 
bers  fell  upon  Mr.  Greeley,  and  they  were  produced  under  every 
conceivable  disadvantage.  Yet,  with  all  these  misfortunes  and 
drawbacks,  several  hundred  copies  were  daily  sold,  and  Dr.  Shep 
pard  was  able  to  pay  all  the  expenses  of  the  first  week.  On  the 
second  Saturday,  however,  he  paid  his  printers  half  in  money  and 
half  in  promises.  On  the  third  day  of  the  third  week,  the  faith 
and  the  patience  of  Messrs.  Greeley  and  Story  gave  out,  and  the 
*  Morning  Post'  ceased  to  exist. 

The  last  two  days  of  its  short  life  it  was  sold  for  a  cent,  and  the 
readiness  with  which  it  was  purchased  convinced  Dr.  Sheppard, 
but  him  alone,  that  if  it  had  been  started  at  that  price,  it  would  not 
have  been  a  failure.  His  money  and  his  credit  were  both  gone, 
and  the  error  could  not  be  retrieved.  He  could  not  even  pay  his 
printers  the  residue  of  their  account,  and  he  had,  in  consequence, 
to  endure  some  emphatic  observations  from  Mr.  Story  on  the  mad 
ness  and  presumption  of  his  scheme.  "  Did  n't  I  tell  you  so  ?"  said 
the  other  printers.  "  Everybody,"  says  Dr.  Sheppard,  "  abused  me, 
except  Horace  Greeley.  He  spoke  very  kindly,  and  told  me  not  to 
mind  what  Story  said."  The  doctor,  thenceforth,  washed  his 
hands  of  printers'  ink,  and  entered  upon  the  practice  of  his  pro 
fession. 

Nine  months  after,  the  SUN  appeared,  a  penny  paper,  a  dingy 
sheet  a  little  larger  than  a  sheet  of  letter  paper.  Its  success  demon 
strated  the  correctness  of  Dr.  Sheppard's  calculations,  and  justified 
the  enthusiasm  with  which  he  had  pursued  his  Idea.  The  office 
from  which  the  Sun  was  issued  was  one  of  the  last  which  Dr. 
Sheppard  had  visited  for  the  purpose  of  enlisting  co-operation. 
Neither  of  the  proprietors  was  present,  but  the  ardent  schemer  ex 
pounded  his  plans  to  a  journeyman,  and  thus  planted  the  seed  which, 
in  September,  produced  fruit  in  the  form  of  the  Sun,  which  '  shines 
for  all.' 

This  morning,  the  cheap  daily  press  of  this  city  has  issued  a  hun 
dred  and  fifty  thousand  sheets,  the  best  of  which  contain  a  history 
of  the  world  for  one  day,  so  completely  given,  BO  intelligently  com 


FANNY  FERN  AND  THE  PEA-NUT  MERCHANT.       145 

mented  upon,  as  to  place  the  New  York  Press  at  the  head  of  the 
journalism  of  the  world.  The  Cheap  Press,  be  it  observed,  had; 
first  of  allt  to  create  itself,  and,  secondly,  to  create  its  Public.  The 
papers  of  the  old  school  have  gone  on  their  way  prospering.  They 
are  read  by  the  class  that  read  them  formerly.  Bnt — mark  that 
long  line  of  hackmen,  each  seated  on  his  box  waiting  for  a  customer, 
and  each  reading  his  morning  paper !  Observe  the  paper  that  is 
thrust  into  the  pocket  of  the  omnibus  driver.  Look  into  shops  and 
factories  at  the  dinner  hoar,  and  nofce  how  many  of  the  men  are 
readiag  their  newspaper  as  they  eat  their  dinner.  All  this  is  new. 
All  this  has  resulted  from  the  Chatham-street  cogitations  of  Hora 
tio  Davis  ShepparcL 

A  distinguished  authoress  of  this  city  relates  the  following  cir 
cumstance,  which  occurred  last  summer : 

THE  MAN  WHO  DOES  TAKE  THE  PAPES. 

T*  the  Editor  «f  TAe  JV.  Y.  Tribune. 

S« : — Not  long  since  I  read  in  your  paper  an  article  headed  "  the  man 
who  never  took  a  newspaper."  In  contrast  to  this  I  would  relate  to  you  a 
little  incident  which  came  under  my  own  observation  : 

Having  been  disappointed  the  other  morning  in  receiving  that  part  of  my 
breakfast  contained  in  THE  N.  Y.  DAILY  TRIBUNE,  I  dispatched  a  messenger 
to  see  what  could  be  done  in  the  way  of  satisfaction.  After  half  an  hour's 
diligent  search  he  returned,  much  to  my  chagrin,  empty-handed.  Recollecting 
an  old  copy  get  me  at  school  after  this  wise :  "  If  you  want  a  thing  done  do  it 
yourself,"  I  seized  my  bonnet  and  sallied  forth.  Not  far  from  my  domicil 
appears  each  morning,  with  the  rising  sun,  an  old  huckster-man,  whose  stock 
in  trade  consists  of  two  empty  barrels,  across  which  is  thrown  a  pro  tern 
counter  in  the  shape  of  a  plank,  a  pint  of  pea-nuts,  six  sticks  of  peppermint 
candy,  half  a  dozen  choleric  looking  pears  and  apples,  copies  of  the  daily 
papers,  and  ae  old  stubby  broom,  with  which  the  owner  carefully  brushes  up 
the  nut-shells  dropped  by  graceless  urchins  to  the  endangerment  of  his  side 
walk  lease. 

"  Have  you  this  mornicg's  TRIBUNE  3"  said  I,  looking  as  amiable  as  I 
knew  how. 

"  No  jJf<z'*m,"  was  the  decided  reply. 

"  Why — yes,  you  have,"  said  I,  laying  my  hand  on  the  desired  number. 

"Well,  you  can't  have  that,  Ma'nsa,"  said  the  disconcerted  peanut  mer 
chant,  "  for  I  have  n't  read  it  myself!" 

"  I  '11  give  you  three  cents  for  it,"  said  I. 

7 


146  THE    FIRM    CONTINUES. 

(A  shake  of  the  head.) 

"  Four  cents  ?" 

(Another  shake.) 

"Sixpence?"  (I  was  getting  excited.) 

"It's  no  use,  Ma'am,"  said  the  persistent  old  fellow.  "It 's  the  only  num 
ber  I  could  get.  and  I  tell  you  that  nobody  shall  have  that  TRIBUNE  till  I  have 
read  it  myself !" 

You  should  have  seen,  Mr.  Editor,  the  shapeless  hat,  the  mosaic  coat,  the 
tattered  vest,  and  the  extraordinary  pair  of  trousers  that  were  educated  up 
to  that  TRIBUNE — it  was  a  picture  S  FANNY  FERN. 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE    FIRM    CONTINUES 

Lottery  printing  — The  Constitutionalist— Dudley  S.  Gregory— The  lottery  suicide— 
The  firm  prospers — Sudden  death  of  Mr.  Story — A  new  partner — Mr.  Greeley  as  a 
master — A  dinner  story — Sylvester  Graham— Horace  Greeley  at  the  Graham 
House— The  New  Yorker  projected— James  Gordon  Bennett. 

THE  firm  of  Greeley  and  Story  was  not  seriously  injured  by  tht 
failure  of  the  Morning  Post.  They  stopped  printing  it  in  time,  and 
their  loss  was  not  more  than  fifty  or  sixty  dollars.  Meanwhile, 
their  main  stay  was  Sylvester's  Bank  Note  Reporter,  which  yielded 
about  fifteen  dollars'  worth  of  composition  a  week,  payment  for  which 
was  sure  and  regular.  In  a  few  weeks  Mr,  Story  was  fortunate 
enough  to  procure  a  considerable  quantity  of  lottery  printing.  This 
was  profitable  work,  and  the  firm,  thenceforth,  paid  particular  at 
tention  to  that  branch  of  business,  and  our  hero  acquired  great  dex 
terity  in  setting  up  and  arranging  the  list  of  prizes  and  drawings. 

Among  other  things,  they  had,  for  some  time,  the  printing  of  a 
small  tri-weekly  paper  called  the  Constitutionalist,  which  was  the 
organ  of  the  great  lottery  dealers,  and  the  vehicle  of  lottery  news,  a 
Binall,  dingy  quarto  of  four  pages,  of  which  one  page  only  wa.« 
devoted  to  reading  matter,  the  rest  being  occupied  by  lotter* 
tables  and  advertisements.  The  heading  of  this  interesting  per; 


DUDLEY   S.  GREGORY.  147 

odical  was  as  follows :  "  THE  CONSTITUTIONALIST,  "Wilmington,  Dela 
ware.  Devoted  to  the  Interests  of  Literature,  Internal  Improve 
ment,  Common  Schools,  &c.,  &c."  The  last  half  square  of  the  last 
column  of  the  Constitutionalist's  last  page  contained  a  standing 
advertisement,  which  read  thus: — 

"  Greeley  and  Story,  No.  54  Liberty-street,  New  York,  respectfully 
solicit  the  patronage  of  the  public  to  their  business  of  Letter-Press 
Printing,  particularly  Lottery  Printing,  such  as  schemes,  periodicals, 
&c.,  which  will  be  executed  on  favorable  terms." 

Horace  Greeley,  who  had  by  this  time  become  an  inveterate 
paragraphist,  and  was  scribbler- general  to  the  circle  in  which  he 
moved,  did  not  disdain  to  contribute  to  the  first  page  of  the  Con 
stitutionalist.  The  only  set  of  the  paper  which  has  been  preserved 
I  have  examined  ;  and  though  many  short  articles  are  pointed  out 
by  its  proprietor,  as  written  by  Mr.  Greeley,  I  find  none  of  the 
slightest  present  interest,  and  none  which  throw  any  light  upon 
his  feelings,  thoughts  of  habits,  at  the  time  when  they  were  writ 
ten.  He  wrote  well  enough,  however,  to  impress  his  friends  with 
a  high  idea  of  his  talent;  and  his  prompt  fidelity  in  all  hia  transac 
tions,  at  this  period,  secured  him  one  friend,  who,  in  addition  to  a 
host  of  other  good  qualities,  chanced  to  be  the  possessor,  or  wielder, 
of  extensive  means.  This  friend,  at  various  subsequent  crises  of 
our  hero's  life,  proved  to  be  a  friend  indeed,  because  a  friend  in 
need.  They  sat  together,  long  after,  the  printer  and  the  patron,  in 
the  representative's  hall  at  Washington,  as  members  of  the  thirtieth 
Congress.  Why  shall  I  not  adorn  this  page  by  writing  on  it  the 
name  of  the  kindly,  the  munificent  Dudley  S.  Gregory,  to  whose 
wise  generosity,  Jersey  City,  and  Jersey  citizens,  owe  so  much  ;  in 
whose  hands  large  possessions  are  far  more  a  public  than  a  private 
good  ? 

Mr.  Gregory  was,  in  1833,  the  agent  or  manager  of  a  great  lottery 
association,  and  he  had  much  to  do  with  arranging  the  tables  and 
schemes  published  in  the  Constitutionalist.  This  brought  him  in 
contact  with  the  senior  member  of  the  firm  of  Greeley  and  Story, 
to  whose  talents  his  attention  was  soon  called  by  a  particular  circum 
stance.  A  young  man,  who  had  lost  all  his  property  by  the  lot 
tery,  in  a  moment  of  desperation  committed  suicide.  A  great  hue 
and  cry  arose  all  over  the  country  against  lotteries ;  and  many 


148  THE    FIRM    CONTINUES. 

newspapers  ckmored  for  their  suppression  by  law.  The  lottery 
dealers  were  alarmed.  In  the  midst  of  this  excitement,  Horace 
Greeley,  while  standing  at  the  case,  composed  an  article  on  the 
subject,  the  purport  of  which  is  said  to  have  been,  that  the  argu 
ment  for  and  against  lotteries  was  not  affected  by  the  suicide  of  that 
young  man ;  but  it  simply  proved,  that  he,  the  suicide,  was  a  per 
son  of  weak  character,  and  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  questif  n 
whether  the  State  ought,  or  ought  not,  to  license  lotteries.  T)  is 
article  was  inserted  in  one  of  the  lottery  papers,  attracted  considir- 
able  attention,  and  made  Mr.  Gregory  aware  that  his  printer  v,  AS 
not  an  ordinary  man.  Soon  after,  Mr.  Greeley  changed  his  op  /i- 
ion  on  the  subject  of  lotteries,  and  advocated  their  suppress!  )n 
by  law. 

Greeley  and  Story  were  now  prosperous  printers.  Their  business 
steadily  increased,  and  they  began  to  accumulate  capital.  The  ter  n 
of  their  copartnership,  however,  was  short.  The  great  dissolver  <  £ 
partnerships,  King  Death  himself,  dissolved  theirs  in  the  seven  .h 
month  of  its  existence.  On  the  9th  of  July,  Francis  Story  we  it 
down  the  bay  on  an  excursion,  and  never  returned  alive.  He  wt-s 
drowned  by  the  upsetting  of  a  boat,  and  his  body  was  brought  bar  k 
to  the  city  the  same  evening.  There  had  existed  between  the^.e 
young  partners  a  warm  friendship.  Mr.  Story's  admiration  of  tlie 
character  and  talents  of  our  hero  amounted  to  enthusiasm;  and 
he,  on  his  part,  could  not  but  love  the  man  who  so  loved  him.  When 
he  went  up  to  the  coffin  to  look  for  the  last  time  on  the  marble 
features  that  had  never  turned  to  his  with  an  unkind  expression,  he 
said,  u  Poor  Story !  shall  I  ever  meet  with  any  one  who  will  bear 
'rvith  me  as  he  did?"  To  the  bereaved  family  Horace  Greeley  be 
haved  with  the  most  scrupulous  justice,  sending  Mr.  Story's  mother 
half  of  all  the  little  outstanding  accounts  as  soon  as  they  were  paid, 
and  receiving  into  the  vacant  place  a  brother-in-law  of  his  deceased 
partner,  Mr.  Jonas  Winchester,  a  gentleman  now  well  known  to  the 
press  and  the  people  of  this  country. 

A  short  time  before,  he  had  witnessed  the  marriage  of  Mr.  Win 
chester  by  the  Episcopal  form.  He  was  deeply  impressed  with  the 
ceremony,  listening  to  it  in  an  attitude  expressive  of  the  profoundest 
interest;  and  when  it  was  over,  he  exclaimed  aloud,  "That's  the 


SYLVESTER    GRAHAM.  149 

most  beautiful  service  I  ever  saw.  If  ever  I  am  married  it  shall  bo 
by  that  form." 

The  business  of  "  Greeley  and  Co."  went  on  prospering  through 
the  year ;  but  increase  of  means  made  not  the  slightest  difference 
in  our  hero's  habits  or  appearance.  His  indifference  to  dress  was 
a  chronic  complaint,  and  the  ladies  of  his  partner's  family  tried  in 
vain  to  coax  and  laugh  him  into  a  conformity  with  the  usages  of 
society.  They  hardly  succeeded  in  inducing  him  to  keep  his  shirt 
buttoned  over  his  white  bosom.  "  He  was  always  a  clean  man,  you 
know,"  says  one  of  them.  There  was  not  even  the  show  or  pre 
tence  of  discipline  in  the  office.  One  of  the  journeymen  made  an 
outrageous  caricature  of  his  employer,  and  showed  it  to  him  one 
day  as  he  came  from  dinner.  "Who's  that?"  asked  the  man. 
"  That 's  me,"  said  the  master,  with  a  smile,  and  passed  in  to  his 
work.  The  men  made  a  point  of  appearing  to  differ  in  opinion  from 
him  on  every  subject,  because  they  liked  to  hear  him  talk ;  and, 
one  day,  after  a  long  debate,  he  exclaimed,  "  Why,  men,  if  I  were 
to  say  that  that  black  man  there  was  black,  you  'd  all  swear  he  was 
white."  He  worked  with  all  his  former  intensity  and  absorption. 
Often,  such  conversations  as  these  took  place  in  the  office  about  the 
middle  of  the  day : 

(H.  G.,  looking  up  from  his  work)— Jonas,  have  I  been  to  dinner? 

(Mr.  Winchester) — You  ought  to  know  best.    I  do  n't  know 

(H.  G.) — John,  have  I  been  to  dinner  ? 

(John) — I  believe  not.    Has  he,  Tom  ? 

To  which  Tom  would  reply  *  no,'  or  '  yes,'  according  to  his  own 
recollection  or  John's  wink ;  and  if  the  office  generally  concurred  in 
Tom's  decision,  Horace  would  either  go  to  dinner  or  resume  his 
work,  in  unsuspecting  accordance  therewith. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  he  embraced  the  first  of  his  two 
"  isms"  (he  has  never  had  but  two).  Graham  arose  and  lectured, 
and  made  a  noise  in  the  world,  and  obtained  followers.  The  sub 
stance  of  his  message  was  that  We,  the  people  of  the  United  States, 
are  in  the  habit  of  taking  our  food  in  too  concentrated  a  form. 
Bulk  is  necessary  as  well  as  nutriment;  brown  bread  is  better 
than  white ;  and  meat  should  be  eaten  only  once  a  day,  or  never, 
said  the  Rev.  Dr.  Graham.  Stimulants,  he  added,  were  pernicious, 
and  their  apparent  necessity  arises  solely  from  too  concentrated,  and 


150  THE   FIRM    CONTINUES. 

therefore  indigestible  food.  A  simple  message,  and  one  most  obvi 
ously  true.  The  wonder  is,  not  that  he  should  have  obtained  fol 
lowers,  but  that  there  should  have  been  found  one  human  being  so 
besottedly  ignorant  and  so  incapable  of  being  instructed  as  to  deny 
the  truth  of  his  leading  principles.  Graham  was  a  remarkable  man. 
He  was  one  of  those  whom  nature  has  gifted  with  the  power  of 
taking  an  interest  in  human  welfare.  He  was  a  discoverer  of  the 
facts,  that  most  of  us  are  sick,  and  that  none  of  us  need  be ;  that' 
disease  is  impious  and  disgraceful,  the  result,  in  almost  every  in 
stance,  of  folly  or  crime.  He  exonerated  God  from  the  aspersions 
cast  upon  His  wisdom  and  goodness  by  those  who  attribute  disease 
to  His  "  mysterious  dispensations,"  and  laid  all  the  blame  and  shame 
of  the  ills  th&t  flesh  endures  at  the  door  of  those  who  endure  them. 
Graham  was  one  of  tlie  two  or  three  men  to  whom  this  nation 
might,  with  some  propriety,  erect  a  monument.  Some  day,  perhaps, 
a  man  will  take  the  trouble  to  read  Graham's  two  tough  and  wordy 
volumes,  and  present  the  substance  of  them  to  the  public  in  a  form 
which  will  not  repel,  but  win  the  reader  to  perusal  and  convic 
tion. 

Horace  Greeley,  like  every  other  thinking  person  that  heard  Dr. 
Graham  lecture,  was  convinced  that  upon  the  whole  he  was  right. 
He  abandoned  the  use  of  stimulants,  and  took  care  in  selecting  his 
food,  to  see  that  there  was  the  proper  proportion  between  its  bulk 
and  its  nutriment ;  i.  e.  he  ate  Graham  bread,  little  meat,  and  plen 
ty  of  rice,  Indian  meal,  vegetables  and  fruit.  He  went,  after  a  time, 
to  board  at  the  Graham  house,  a  hotel  conducted,  as  its  name  im 
ported,  on  Graham  principles,  the  rules  and  regulations  having 
been  written  by  Dr.  Graham  himself.  The  first  time  our  friend  ap 
peared  at  the  table  of  the  Graham  House,  a  silly  woman  who  lived 
there  tried  her  small  wit  upon  him. 

"  It 's  lucky,"  said  she  to  the  landlady,  "  that  you  've  no  cat  in 
the  house." 

"  Why  ?"  asked  the  landlady. 

"  Because,"  was  the  killhg  reply,  "  if  you  had,  the  cat  would  cer 
tainly  take  that  man  with  the  white  head  for  a  gosling,  and  fly  at 
him." 

Gentlemen  who  boarded  with  him  at  the  Graham  House,  remem 
ber  him  as  a  Portcntious  Anomaly,  one  who,  on  ordinary  occasions, 


EDITOR    OF    THE   NEW   YORKER.  151 

/said  nothing,  but  was  occasionally  roused  to  most  vehement  argu 
ment  ;  a  man  much  given  to  reading  and  cold-water  baths. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  year  1834,  the  dream  of  editorship  re 
vived  in  the  soul  of  Horace  Greeley.  A  project  for  starting  a  week- 
ly  paper  began  to  be  agitated  in  the  office.  The  firm,  which  then 
consisted  of  three  members,  H.  Greeley,  Jonas  Winchester,  and  E. 
Sibbett,  considered  itself  worth  three  thousand  dollars,  and  was  fur 
ther  of  opinion,  that  it  contained  within  itself  an  amount  of  edito 
rial  talent  sufficient  to  originate  and  conduct  a  family  paper  supe 
rior  to  any  then  existing.  The  firm  was  correct  in  both  opinions, 
and  the  result  was — the  NEW  YOEKEE. 

An  incident  connected  with  the  job  office  of  Greeley  &  Co.  is, 
perhaps,  worth  mentioning  here.  One  James  Gordon  Bennett,  a 
person  then  well  known  as  a  smart  writer  for  the  press,  came  to 
Horace  Greeley,  and  exhibiting  a  fifty-dollar  bill  and  some  other 
notes  of  smaller  denomination  as  his  cash  capital,  invited  him  to 
join  in  setting  up  a  new  daily  paper,  the  New  York  Herald.  Our 
hero  declined  the  offer,  but  recommended  James  Gordon  to  apply 
to  another  printer,  naming  one,  who  he  thought  would  like  to 
share  in  such  an  enterprise.  To  him  the  editor  of  the  Herald  did 
apply,  and  with  success.  The  Herald  appeared  soon  after,  under 
the  joint  proprietorship  of  Bennett  and  the  printer  alluded  to.  Up 
on  the  subsequent  burning  of  the  Herald  office,  the  partners  sepa 
rated,  and  the  Herald  was  thenceforth  conducted  by  Bennett  alone. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

EDITOR  OF  THE  NEW  YORKER. 

Character  of  the  Paper— Its  Early  Fortunes— Happiness  of  the  Editor— Scene  in  the  Of- 
fice^Specitnens  of  Horace  Greeley's  Poetry — Subjects  of  his  Essays— His  Opinions 
then — His  Marriage — The  Silk-stocking  Story — A  day  in  Washington— His  impress 
ions  of  the  Senate— Pecuniary  difficulties— Causes  of  the  New-Yorker's  ill-success 
as  a  Business — The  missing  letters — The  Editor  gets  a  nickname — The  Agorriea 
of  a  Debtor — Park  Benjamin — Henry  J.  Raymond. 

LUCKILY  for  the  purposes  of  the  present  writer,  Mr.  Greeley  is 
the  most  autobiographical  of  editors.     He  takes  his  readers  into  his 


152  EDITOR    OP   THE   NEW    YORKER. 

confidence,  his  sanctum,  and  his  iron  safe.  He  has  not  the  least  ob* 
jection  to  tell  the  public  the  number  of  his  subscribers,  the  amount 
of  his  receipts,  the  excess  of  his  receipts  over  his  expenditures,  or 
the  excess  of  his  expenditures  over  his  receipts.  Accordingly,  the 
whole  history  of  the  New  Yorker,  and  the  story  of  its  editor's  joys 
and  sorrows,  his  trials  and  his  triumphs,  lie  plainly  und  fully  writ 
ten  in  the  New  Yorker  itself. 

The  New  Yorker  was,  incomparably,  the  best  newspaper  of  its 
kind  that  had  ever  been  published  in  this  country.  It  was  printed, 
at  first,  upon  a  large  folio  sheet;  afterwards,  in  two  forms,  folio  and 
quarto,  the  former  at  two  dollars  a  year,  the  latter  at  three.  Its 
contents  were  of  four  kinds ;  literary  matter,  selected  from  home 
and  foreign  periodicals,  and  well  selected ;  editorial  articles  by  the 
editor,  vigorously  and  courteously  expressed ;  news,  chiefly  politi 
cal,  compiled  with  an  accuracy  new  to  American  journalism ;  city, 
literary,  and  miscellaneous  paragraphs.  The  paper  took  no  side  in 
politics,  though  the  ardent  convictions  of  the  editor  were  occasion 
ally  manifest,  in  spite  of  himself.  The  heat  and  fury  of  some  of 
his  later  writings  never  characterize  the  essays  of  the  New  Yorker. 
He  was  always  gentle,  however  strong  and  decided ;  and  there  was 
a  modesty  and  candor  in  his  manner  of  writing  that  made  the  sub 
scriber  a  friend.  For  example,  in  the  very  first  number,  announc 
ing  the  publication  of  certain  mathematical  books,  he  says,  u  As  we 
are  not  ourselves  conversant  with  the  higher  branches  of  mathemat 
ics,  we  cannot  pretend  to  speak  authoritatively  upon  the  merits  of 
these  publications" — a  kind  of  avowal  which  omniscient  editors  are 
not  prone  to  make. 

A  paper,  that  lived  long,  never  stole  into  existence  more  quietly 
than  the  New  Yorker.  Fifteen  of  the'  personal  friends  of  the  edi 
tors  had  promised  to  become  subscribers ;  and  when,  on  the  22d  ol 
March,  1834,  the  first  number  appeared,  it  sold  to  the  extent  of  one 
hundred  copies.  No  wonder.  Neither  of  the  proprietors  had  any 
reputation  with  the  public ;  all  of  them  were  very  young,  and  the 
editor  evidently  supposed  that  it  was  only  necessary  to  make  a  good 
paper  in  order  to  sell  a  great  many  copies.  The  4  Publishers'  Ad 
dress,'  indeed,  expressly  said : — 

"  There  is  one  disadvantage  attending  our  debut  which  is  seldom  encou? 


SCENE   IN    THE    OFFICE.  153 

fcered  in  the  outset  of  periodicals  aspiring  to  general  popularity  and  patron 
age.  Ours  is  not  blazoned  through  the  land  as,  '  The  Cheapest  Periodical  in 
the  World,'  'The  Largest  Paper  ever  Published,'  or  any  of  the  captivating 
clap-traps  wherewith  enterprising  gentlemen,  possessed  of  a  convenient  stock 
of  assurance,  are  wont  to  usher  in  their  successive  experiments  on  the  gulli 
bility  of  the  Public.  No  likenesses  of  eminent  and  favorite  authors  will  em 
bellish  our  title,  while  they  disdain  to  write  for  our  columns.  No  '  distin 
guished  literary  and  fashionable  characters '  have  been  dragged  in  to  bolster! 
up  a  rigmarole  of  preposterous  and  charlatan  pretensions.  And  indeed  so 
serious  is  this  deficiency,  that  the  first  (we  may  say  the  only)  objection  which 
has  been  started  by  our  most  judicious  friends  in  the  discussion  of  our  plans 
xnd  prospects,  has  invariably  been  this : — '  You  do  not  indulge  sufficiently  in 
high-sounding  pretensions.  You  cannot  succeed  without  humbug?  Our  an 
swer  has  constantly  been : — '  We  shall  try,'  and  in  the  spirit  of  this  deter- 
mination,  we  respectfully  solicit  of  our  fellow-citizens  the  extension  of  that 
share  of  patronage  which  they  shall  deem  warranted  by  our  performances 
rather  than  our  promises." 

The  public  took  the  New  Yorker  at  its  word.  The  second  num 
ber  had  a  sale  of  nearly  two  hundred  copies,  and  for  three  months, 
the  increase  averaged  a  hundred  copies  a  week.  In  September,  the 
circulation  was  2,500 ;  and  the  second  volume  began  with  4,500. 
During  the  first  year,  three  hundred  papers  gave  the  New  Yorker 
a  eulogistic  notice.  The  editor  became,  at  once,  a  person  known 
and  valued  throughout  the  Union.  He  enjoyed  his  position  thor 
oughly,  and  he  labored  not  more  truly  with  all  his  might,  than  with 
all  his  heart. 

The  spirit  in  which  he  performed  his  duties,  and  the  glee  with 
which  he  entered  into  the  comicalities  of  editorial  life,  cannot  be 
more  agreeably  shown  than  by  transcribing  his  own  account  of  a 
Scene  which  was  enacted  in  the  office  of  the  New  Yorker,  soon 
after  its  establishment.  The  article  was  entitled  'Editorial  Lux 
uries.' 

We  love  not  the  ways  of  that  numerous  class  of  malcontents  who  are  per 
petually  finding  fault  with  their  vocation,  and  endeavoring  to  prove  them 
selves  the  most  miserable  dogs  in  existence.  If  they  really  think  so,  why 
under  the  sun  do  they  not  abandon  their  present  evil  ways  and  endeavor  to 
hit  upon  something  more  endurable  ?  Nor  do  we  not  deem  these  grumblers 
more  plentiful  among  the  brethren  of  the  quill  than  in  other  professions,  sim 
ply  because  the  grcaniugs  uttered  through  the  press  are  more  widely  circu 

7* 


154  EDITOR    OF   THE   NEW   YORKER. 

lated  than  *hen  merely  breathed  to  the  night-air  of  some  unsympathizing 
friend  who  forgets  all  about  them  the  next  minute ;  but  we  do  think  the  whole 
business  is  in  most  ridiculously  bad  taste.  An  Apostle  teaches  us  of  "  groanings 
which  cannot  be  uttered" — it  would  be  a  great  relief  to  readers,  if  editorial 
groanings  were  of  this  sort.  Now,  we  pride  ourselves  rather  on  the  delighta 
of  our  profession ;  and  we  rejoice  to  say,  that  we  find  them  neither  few  noi 
inconsiderable.  There  is  one  which  even  now  flitted  across  our  path,  which, 
to  tell  the  truth,  was  rather  above  the  average — in  fact,  so  good,  that  we  can 
not  afford  to  monopolize  it.  even  though  we  shall  be  constrained  to  allow  out 
reader  a  peep  behind  the  curtain.  So,  here  it  is : 

[SCENE.  Editorial  Sanctum — Editor  solus — i.  e.  immersed  in  thought  and 
newspapers,  with  a  journal  in  one  hand  and  busily  spoiling  white  paper  with 
the  other — only  two  particular  friends  talking  to  him  at  each  elbow.  Devil 
calls  for  'copy'  at  momentary  intervals.  Enter  a  butternut-colored  gentle* 
man,  who  bows  most  emphatically.] 

Gent.  Are  you  the  editor  of  the  New  Yorker,  sir? 

Editor.  The  same,  sir,  at  your  service. 

Gent.  Did  you  write  this,  sir  ? 

Editor.  Takes  his  scissored  extract  and  reads — '  So,  when  we  hear  the 
brazen  vender  of  quack  remedies  boldly  trumpeting  his  miraculous  cures,  or 
the  announcement  of  the  equally  impudent  experimenter  on  public  credulity 
( Goward)  who  announces,  that  he  c  teaches  music  in  six  lessons,  and  half  a 
dozen  distinct  branches  of  science  in  as  many  weeks,'  we  may  be  grieved,  and 
even  indignant,  that  such  palpable  deceptions  of  the  simple  and  unwary  should 
not  be  discountenanced  and  exposed.' 

That  reads  like  me,  sir.  I  do  not  remember  the  passage  ;  but  if  you  found 
i>  in  the  editorial  columns  of  the  New  Yorker,  I  certainly  did  write  it. 

Gent.  It  was  in  No.  15.     "  The  March  of  Humbug." 

Editor.  Ah !  now  I  recollect  it — there  is  no  mistake  in  my  writing  that 
article. 

Gent.  Did  you  allude  to  me,  sir,  in  those  remarks  ? 

Editor.  You  will  perceive  that  the  name  '  Goward'  has  been  introduced 
by  yourself — there  is  nothing  of  the  kind  in  my  paper. 

Gent.  Yes,  sir ;  but  I  wish  to  know  whether  you  intended  those  remarks  to 
apply  to  me. 

Editor.  Well,  sir,  without  pretending  to  recollect  exactly  what  I  may  have 
been  thinking  of  while  writing  an  article  three  months  ago,  I  will  frankly  say, 
that  I  think  I  must  have  had  you  in  my  eye  while  penning  that  paragraph. 

Gent.  Well,  sir,  do  you  know  that  such  remarks  are  grossly  unjust  and  im 
pertinent  to  me  1 

Ed'ior.  I  know  nothing  of  you,  sir,  but  from  the  testimony  of  friends  and 
your  own  advertisements  in  the  papers — and  these  combine  to  assure  me 
that  you  are  a  quack. 


155 

Gent.  That  is  what  my  enemies  say,  sir;  but  if  you  examine  my  certi 
ficates,  sir,  you  will  know  the  contrary. 

Editor.  I  am  open  to  conviction,  sir. 

Gent.  Well,  sir,  I  have  been  advertising  in  the  Traveler  for  some  time, 
and  have  paid  them  a  great  deal  of  money,  and  here  they  come  out  this  week 
and  abuse  me — so,  I  have  done  with  them  ;  and,  now,  if  you  will  say  you  will 
not  attack  me  in  this  fashion,  I  will  patronize  you  (holding  out  some  tempt 
ing  advertisements). 

Editor.  Well,  sir,  I  shall  be  very  happy  to  advertise  for  you  ;  but  I  can 
give  no  pledge  as  to  the  course  I  shall  feel  bound  to  pursue. 

Gent.  Then,  I  suppose  you  will  continue  to  call  me  a  quack. 

Editor.  I  do  not  know  that  I  am  accustomed  to  attack  my  friends  and 
patrons ;  but  if  I  have  occasion  to  speak  of  you  at  all,  it  shall  be  in  such 
terms  as  my  best  judgment  shall  dictate. 

Gent.  Then,  I  am  to  understand  you  as  my  enemy. 

Editor.  Understand  me  as  you  please,  sir ;  I  shall  endeavor  to  treat  you 
and  all  men  with  fairness. 

Gent.  But  do  you  suppose  I  am  going  to  pay  money  to  those  who  ridicule 
me  and  hold  me  up  as  a  quack  ? 

Editor.  You  will  pay  it  where  you  please,  sir — I  must  enjoy  my  opinions. 

Gent.  Well,  but  is  a  man  to  be  judged  by  what  his  enemies  say  of  him? 
Every  man  has  bis  enemies. 

Editor.  I  hopo  not,  sir  ;  I  trust  I  have  not  an  enemy  in  the  world. 

Gent.  Yes,  you  have — I  'm  your  enemy  ! — and  the  enemy  of  every  one  who 
misrepresents  me.  I  can  get  no  justice  from  the  press,  except  among  the 
penny  dailies.  I  '11  start  a  paper  myself  before  a  year.  I  'II  show  that 
Borne  folks  can  edit  newspapers  as  well  as  others. 

Editor.  The  field  is  open,  sir, — go  ahead. 

[Exit  in  a  rage,  Rev.  J.  R.  Goward,  A,  MM  Teacher 
(in  six  lessons)  of  everything.] 

Another  proof  of  the  happiness  of  the  early  days  of  our  hero's 
editorial  career  might  be  found  in  the  habit  he  then  had  of  writing 
verges.  It  will,  perhaps,  surprise  some  of  his  present  readers,  who 
know  him  only  as  one  of.  the  most  practical  of  writers,  one  given 
to  politics,  sub-soil  plows,  and  other  subjects  supposed  to  be  unpo- 
etical,  to  learn  that  he  was  in  early  life  a  very  frequent,  and  by  no 
means  altogether  unsuccessful  poetizer.  Many  of  the  early  numbers 
of  the  New-Yorker  contain  a  poem  by  u  H.  G."  He  has  published, 
in  all,  about  thirty-five  poems,  of  which  the  New-Yorker  contains 
twenty ;  the  rest  may  ba  found  in  the  Southern  JJterary  Messenger, 
and  various  other  magazines,  annuals,  and  occasional  volumes.  I 


156  EDITOR    OF   THE   NEW   YORKER. 

have  seen  no  poem  of  his  which  does  not  contain  the  material  of 
poetry— thought,  feeling,  fancy;  but  in  few  of  them  was  the  poet 
enabled  to  give  his  thought,  feeling  and  fancy  complete  expression. 
A  specimen  or  two  of  his  poetry  it  would  be  an  unpardonable  omis 
sion  not  to  give,  in  a  volume  like  this,  particularly  as  his  poetic 
period  is  past. 

The  following  is  a  tribute  to  the  memory  of  one  who  was  the  ideal 
hero  of  his  youthful  politics.  It  was  published  in  the  first  number 
of  the  New-Yorker : 

ON  THE  DEATH   OF   WILLIAM   WIRT. 

Rouse  not  the  muffled  drum, 
"Wake  not  the  martial  trumpet's  mournful  sound 

For  him  whose  mighty  voice  in  death  is  dnmb ; 
Who,  in  the  zenith  of  his  high  renown, 

To  the  grave  went  down. 

Invoke  no  cannon's  breath 
To  sw.ell  the  requiem  o'er  his  ashes  poured — 
Silently  bear  him  to  the  house  of  death : — 
The  aching  hearts  by  whom  he  was  adored, 
He  won  not  with  the  sword. 

No !  let  affection's  tear 
Be  the  sole  tribute  to  his  memory  paid ; 
Earth  has  no  monument  so  justly  dear 
To  souls  like  his  in  purity  arrayed — 

Never  to  fade. 

I  loved  thee,  patriot  Chief! 
i  I  battled  proudly  'neath  thy  banner  pure ; 

Mine  is  the  breast  of  woe — the  heart  of  grief, 
Which  suffer  on  unmindful  of  a  cure — 
Proud  to  endure. 

But  vain  the  voice  of  wail 
For  thee,  from  thia  dim  vale  of  sorrow  fled — 


157 

Earth  has  no  spell  whose  magic  shall  not  fail 
To  light  the  gloom  that  shrouds  thy  narrow  bed, 
Or  woo  thee  from  the  dead. 

Then  take  thy  long  repose 
Beneath  the  shelter  of  the  deep  green  sod : 

Death  but  a  brighter  halo  o'er  thee  throws — 
Thy  fame,  thy  soul  alike  have  spurned  the  clod— 

Kest  thee  in  God. 

A  series  of  poems,  entitled  "  Historic  Pencilings,"  appear  in  the 
first  volume  of  the  New  Yorker,  over  the  initials  "  H.  G."  These 
were  the  poetized  reminiscences  of  his  boyish  historical  reading.  Of 
these  poems  the  following  is,  perhaps,  the  most  ploasing  and  char 
acteristic  : 

NERO'S  TOMB. 


11  When  Nero  perished  by  the  iustest  doom, 

***** 
Some  hand  unseen  strewed  flowers  upon  his  grave. 


BYRON. 


The  tyrant  slept  in  death  ; 
His  long  career  of  blood  had  ceased  forever, 

And  but  an  empire's  execrating  breath 
Remained  to  tell  of  crimes  exampled  never. 

Alone  remained  ?    Ah !  no ; 
Rome's  scathed  and  blackened  walls  retold  the  story 

Of  conflagrations  broad  and  baleful  glow. 
Such  was  the  halo  of  the  despot's  glory ! 

And  round  his  gilded  tomb 

Came  crowds  of  sufferers— but  not  to  weep- 
Not  theirs  the  wish  to  light  the  house  of  gloom 

"With  sympathy.    No !     Curses  wild  and  deep 
His  only  requiem  made. 

But  soft !  see,  strewed  around  his  dreamless  bed 
The  trophies  bright  of  many  a  verdant  glade, 

The  living's  tribute  to  the  honored  dead. 


158  EDITOR    OF   THE    NEW   YORKER. 

What  mean  those  gentle  flowers  ? 

So  sweetly  smiling  in  the  face  of  wrath- 
Children  of  genial  suns  and  fostering  showers. 

Now  crushed  and  trampled  in  the  million's  path— 
What  do  they,  withering  here  ? 

Ah  !  spurn  them  not  ?  they  tell  of  sorrow's  flow — 
There  has  been  one  to  shed  affection's  tear, 

And  'mid  a  nation's  joy,  to  feel  a  pang  of  woe ! 

No !  scorn  them  not,  those  flowers, 
They  speak  too  deeply  to  each  feeling  heart— 

They  tell  that  Guilt  hath  still  its  holier  hours— 
That  none  may  e  'er  from  earth  unmourned  depart ; 

That  none  hath  all  effaced 
The  spell  of  Eden  o  'er  his  spirit  cast, 

The  heavenly  image  in  his  features  traced — 
Or  quenched  the  love  unchanging  to  the  last ! 

Another  of  the  '  Historic  Pencilings,'  was  on  the  4  Death  of  Per- 
icles.'  This  was  its  last  stanza : — 

No !  let  the  hrutal  conqueror 

Still  glut  his  soul  with  war, 
And  let  the  ignoble  million 

With  shouts  surround  his  car ; 
But  dearer  far  the  lasting  fame 
.     Which  twines  its  wreaths  with  peace- 
Give  me  the  tearless  memory 

Of  the  mighty  one  of  Greece. 

Only  one  of  his  poems  seems  to  have  been  inspired  by  the  ten 
der  passion.  It  is  dated  May  31st,  1834.  Who  this  bright  Vision 
was  to  whom  the  poem  was  addressed,  or  whether  it  was  ever  vis 
ible  to  any  but  the  poet's  eye,  has  not  transpired, 

FANTASIES, 

They  deem  me  cold,  the  thoughtless  and  light-hearted, 
In  that  I  worship  not  at  beauty's  shrine  ; 


FANTASIES.  159 

They  deem  me  cold,  that  through  the  years  departed, 

I  ne'er  have  bowed  me  to  some  form  diviiie. 
They  deem  me  proud,  that,  where  the  world  hath  flattered, 

I  ne'er  have  knelt  to  languish  or  adore ; 
They  think  not  that  the  homage  idly  scattered 

Leaves  the  heart  bankrupt,  ere  its  spring  is  o'er. 

No !  in  my  soul  there  glows  but  one  bright  vision, 

And  o'er  my  heart  there  rules  but  one  fond  spell, 
Bright'ning  my  hours  of  sleep  with  dreams  Elysian 

Of  one  unseen,  yet  loved,  aye  cherished  well ; 
Unseen  ?    Ah !  no ;  her  presence  round  me  lingers, 

Chasing  each  wayward  thought  that  tempts  to  rove ; 
Weaving  Affection's  web  with  fairy  fingers, 

And  waking  thoughts  of  purity  and  love. 

Star  of  my  heaven !  thy  beams  shall  guide  me  ever, 

Though  clouds  obscure,  and  thorns  bestrew  my  path ; 
As  sweeps  my  bark  adown  life's  arrowy  river 

Thy  angel  smile  shall  soothe  misfortune's  wrath  ; 
And  ah !  should  Fate  ere  speed  her  deadliest  arrow, 

Should  vice  allure  to  plunge  in  her  dark  sea, 
Be  this  the  only  shield  my  soul  shall  borrow — 

One  glance  to  Heaven — one  burning  thought  of  thee ! 

1  ne'er  on  earth  may  gaze  on  those  bright  features, 

Nor  drink  the  light  of  that  soul-beaming  eye ; 
But  wander  on  'mid  earth's  unthinking  creatures, 

Unloved  in  life,  and  unlamented  die ; 
But  ne'er  shall  fade  the  spell  thou  weavest  o'er  me, 

Nor  fail  the  star  that  lights  my  lonely  way ; 
Still  shall  the  night's  fond  dreams  that  light  restore  me, 

Though  Fate  forbid  its  gentler  beams  by  day. 

I  have  not  dreamed  that  gold  or  gems  adorn  thee — 
That  Flatt'ry's  voice  may  vaunt  thy  matchless  form ; 

I  little  reck  that  worldlings  all  may  scorn  thee, 
Be  but  thy  SOUL  still  pure,  thy  feelings  warm  ; 


160  EDITOR    OF   THE    NEW   YORKER. 

Be  thine  bright  Intellect's  unfading  treasures, 

And  Poesy's  more  deeply-hallowed  spell, 
And  Faith  the  zest  which  heightens  all  thy  pleasures, 

With  trusting  love — Maid  of  rny  soul !  farewell ! 

One  more  poem  claims  place  here,  if  from  its  autobiographi  «tl 
character  alone.  Those  who  believe  there  is  such  a  thing  as  regen 
eration,  who  know  that  a  man  can  act  and  live  in  a  disinterested 
spirit,  will  not  read  this  poem  with  entire  incredulity.  It  appeared 
in  the  Southern  Literary  Messenger  for  August,  1840. 

THE  FADED   STARS. 

I  mind  the  time  when  Heaven's  high  dome 

Woke  in  my  soul  a  wondrous  thrill — 
When  every  leaf  in  Nature's  tome 

Bespoke  creation's  marvels  still ; 
When  mountain  cliff  and  sweeping  glade, 

As  morn  unclosed  her  rosy  bars, 
Woke  joys  intense — but  naught  e'er  bade 

My  heart  leap  up,  like  you,  bright  stars ! 

Calm  rainistrants  to  God's  high  glory ! 

Pure  gems  around  His  burning  throne ! 
Mute  watchers  o'er  man's  strange,  sad  story 

Of  Crime  and  Woe  through  ages  gone  1 
'Twas  yours  the  mild  and  hallowing  spell 

That  lured  me  from  ignoble  gleams — 
Taught  me  where  sweeter  fountains  swell 

Than  ever  bless  the  worldling's  dreams. 

How  changed  was  life  1  a  waste  no  more, 

Beset  by  Want,  and  Pain,  and  Wrong ; 
Earth  seemed  a  glad  and  fairy  shore, 

Vocal  with  Hope's  inspiring  song. 
But  ye,  bright  sentinels  of  Heaven ! 

Far  glories  of  Night's  radiant  sky  1 
Who,  as  ye  gemmed  the  brow  of  Even, 

Has  ever  deemed  Man  born  to  die  ? 
*  *  *  * 


SUBJECTS    OF   HIS    ESSAYS.  101 

'Tis  faded  now,  that  wondrous  grace 

That  once  on  Heaven's  forehead  shone ; 
I  read  no  more  in  Nature's  face 

A  soul  responsive  to  my  own. 
A  dimness  on  my  eye  and  spirit, 

Stern  time  has  cast  in  hurrying  by ; 
Few  joys  my  hardier  years  inherit, 

And  leaden  dullness  rules  the  sky. 

Yet  mourn  not  I — a  stern,  high  duty 
Now  nerves  my  arm  and  fires  my  brain ; 

Perish  the  dream  of  shapes  of  beauty, 
So  that  this  strife  be  not  in  vain  ; 

To  war  on  Fraud  entrenched  with  Power- 
On  smooth  Pretense  and  specious  Wrong — 

This  task  be  mine,  though  Fortune  lower ; 
For  this  be  banished  sky  and  song. 

The  subjects  upon  which  the  editor  of  the  New  Yorker  t»tfed  to 
descant,  as  editor,  contrast  curiously  with  those  upon  which,  as 
poet,  he  aspired  to  sing.  Turning  over  the  well-printed  pages  of 
that  journal,  we  find  calm  and  rather  elaborate  essays  upon  l  The 
Interests  of  Labor,'  '  Our  Relations  with  France,'  *  Speculation,' 
*  The  Science  of  Agriculture,'  *  Usury  Laws,'  '  The  Currency,'  *  Over 
trading,'  '  Divorce  of  Bank  and  State,'  *  National  Conventions,'  *  In 
ternational  Copyright,'  '  Relief  of  the  Poor,'  *  The  Public  Lands,' 
'  Capital  Punishment,'  '  The  Slavery  Question,'  and  scores  of  others 
equally  unromantic.  There  are,  also,  election  returns  given  with 
great  minuteness,  and  numberless  paragraphs  recording  nomina 
tions.  The  New  Yorker  gradually  became  the  authority  in  the  de 
partment  of  political  statistics.  There  were  many  people  who  did 
not  consider  an  election  *  safe,'  or  '  lost,'  until  they  saw  the  figures 
in  the  New  Yorker.  And  the  New  Yorker  deserved  this  distinc 
tion  ;  for  there  never  lived  an  editor  more  scrupulous  upon  the 
point  of  literal  and  absolute  correctness  than  Horace  Greeley.  To 
quote  the  language  of  a  proof-reader — "  If  there  is  a  thing  that  will 
make  Horace  furious,  it  is  to  have  a  name  spelt  wrong,  era  mistake 


,  EDITOR    OF   THE    NEW    YORKER. 

in  election  returns."  In  fact,  he  was  morbid  on  tho  subject,  till 
time  toughened  him  ;  time,  and  proof-readers. 

The  opinions  which  he  expressed  in  the  columns  of  the  New 
Yorker  are,  in  general,  those  to  which  he  still  adheres,  though  on  a 
few  subjects  he  used  language  which  he  would  not  now  use.  His 
opinions  on  those  subjects  have  rather  advanced  than  changed. 
For  example  :  he  is  now  opposed  to  the  punishment  of  death  in  all 
cases,  except  when,  owing  to  peculiar  circumstances,  the  immediate 
safety  of  the  community  demands  it.  In  June,  1830,  he  wrote : — 
"  And  now,  having  fully  expressed  our  conviction  that  the  punish 
ment  of  death  is  one  which  should  sometimes  be  inflicted,  we  may 
add,  that  we  would  have  it  resorted  to  as  unfrequently  as  possible. 
Nothing,  in  our  view,  but  cold-blooded,  premeditated,  unpalliated 
murder,  can  fully  justify  it.  Let  this  continue  to  be  visited  with  the 
sternest  penalty." 

Another  example.  The  following  is  part  of  an  article  on  the 
Slavery  Question,  which  appeared  in  July,  1884.  It  differs  from 
his  present  writings  on  the  same  subject,  not  at  all  in  doctrine, 
though  very  much  in  tone.  Then,  he  thought  the  North  the  ag 
gressor.  Since  then,  we  have  had  Mexican  Wars,  Nebraska  bills, 
etc.,  and  he  now  writes  as  one  assailed. 

"  To  a  philosophical  observer,  the  existence  of  domestic  servitude  in  one 
portion  of  the  Union  while  it  is  forbidden  and  condemned  in  another,  would 
indeed  seem  to  afford  no  plausible  pretext  for  variance  or  alienation.  The 
Union  was  formed  with  a  perfect  knowledge,  on  the  one  hand,  that  slavery  ex 
isted  at  the  south,  and,  on  the  other,  that  it  was  utterly  disapproved  and  dis 
countenanced  at  the  north.  But  the  framers  of  the  constitution  saw  no  reason 
for  distrust  and  dissension  in  this  circumstance.  Wisely  avoiding  all  discuss 
ion  of  a  subject  so  delicate  and  exciting,  they  proceeded  to  the  formation  of 
'  a  more  perfect  union,'  which,  leaving  each  section  in  the  possession  of  its 
undoubted  right  of  regulating  its  own  internal  government  and  enjoying  its 
own  speculative  opinions,  provided  only  for  the  common  benefit  and  mutual 
well-being  of  the  whole.  And  why  should  not  this  arrangement  be  satisfac 
tory  and  perfect  ?  Why  should  not  even  the  existing  evils  of  one  section  be 
left  to  the  correction  of  its  own  wisdom  and  virtue,  when  pointed  out  by  the 
unerring  finger  of  experience  7 

********* 

Wt  entertain  no  doubt  that  the  system  of  slavery  is  at  the  bottom  of  most 
of  the  evils  which  afflict  tho  communities  of  the  south — that  it  has  occasioned 


HIS    OPINIONS    THEN.  163 

the  decline  of  Virginia,  of  Maryland,  of  Carolina.  We  see  it  even  retarding 
the  growth  of  the  new  State  of  Missouri,  and  causing  her  to  fall  far  behind 
her  sister  Indiana  in  improvement 'and  population.  And  we  venture  to  assert, 
that  if  the  objections  to  slavery,  drawn  from  a  correct  and  enlightened  politi*. 
cal  economy,  were  once  fairly  placed  before  the  southern  public,  they  would 
need  no  other  inducements  to  impel  them  to  enter  upon  an  immediate  and 
effective  course  of  legislation,  with  a  view  to  the  ultimate  extinction  of  the 
evil.  But,  right  or  wrong,  no  people  have  a  greater  disinclination  to  the  lec 
tures  or  even  the  advice  of  their  neighbors  ;  and  we  venture  to  predict,  that 
whoever  shall  bring  about  a  change  of  opinion  in  that  quarter,  must,  in  this 
case,  reverse  the  proverb  which  declares,  that  '  a  prophet  hath  honor  except 
in  his  own  country.'  " 

******* 

After  extolling  the  Colonization  Society,  and  condemning  the  form 
ation  of  anti-slavery  societies  at  the  North,  as  irritating  and  useless, 
the  editor  proceeds : — "  We  hazard  the  assertion,  that  there  never 
existed  two  distinct  races — so  diverse  as  to  be  incapable  of  amalga 
mation — inhabiting  the  same  district  of  country,  and  in  open  and 
friendly  contact  with  each  other,  that  maintained  a  perfect  equality 
of  political  and  social  condition.  *  *  *  It  remains  to  be  proved, 
that  the  history  of  the  nineteenth  century  will  afford  a  direct  con 
tradiction  to  all  former  experience.  *  *  *  We  cannot  close 
without  reiterating  the  expression  of  our  firm  conviction,  that  if 
the  African  race  are  ever  to  be  raised  to  a  degree  of  comparative 
happiness,  intelligence,  and  freedom,  it  must  be  in  some  other  region, 
than  that  which  has  been  the  theater  of  their  servitude  and  degra 
dation.  They  must '  come  up  out  of  the  land  of  Egypt  and  out  of 
the  house  of  bondage ;'  even  though  they  should  be  forced  to  cross 
the  sea  in  their  pilgrimage  and  wander  forty  years  in  the  wilder 
ness." 

Again.  In  1835,  he  had  not  arrived  at  the  Maine  Law,  but  waa 
feeling  his  way  towards  it.  He  wrote  thus : 

"  Were  we  called  upon  to  indicate  simply  the  course  which  should  be  pursued 
for  the  eradication  of  this  crying  evil,  our  compliance  would  be  a  far  easier 
matter.  We  should  say,  unhesitatingly,  that  the  vending  of  alcohol,  or  of 
liquors  of  which  alcohol  forms  a  leading  component,  should  be  regulated  by 
the  laws  which  govern  the  sale  of  other  insidious,  yet  deadly,  poisons.  It 
should  be  kept  for  sale  oily  by  druggists,  and  dealt  out  in  small  portions, 
and  with  like  regard  to  the  character  and  ostensible  purpose  of  the  applicant 


164  EufTOR    OF   THE   NEW   YORKER. 

as  in  the  case  of  its  counterpart.  *  *  *  *  But  we  must  not  forget,  that 
we  are  to  determine  simply  what  may  be  done  by  the  friends  of  temperance 
for  the  advancement  of  the  noble  cause  in  which  they  are  engaged,  rather 
than  what  the  more  ardent  of  them  (with  whom  we  are  proud  to  rank  our 
selves)  would  desire  to  see  accomplished.  We  are  to  look  at  things  as  they 
are;  and,  in  that  view,  all  attempts  to  interdict  the  sale  of  intoxicating  liquors 
in  our  hotels,  our  country  stores,  and  our  steam-boats,  in  the  present  state 
of  public  opinion,  must  be  hopelessly,  ridiculously  futile.  *  *  *  *  The 
only  available  provision  bearing  on  this  branch  of  the  traffic,  which  could  be 
urged  with  the  least  prospect  of  success,  is  the  imposition  of  a  real  license- 
tax—say  from  $100  to  $1000  per  annum— which  would  have  the  effect  ol 
diminishing  the  evil  by  rendering  less  frequent  and  less  universal  the  temp 
tations  which  lead  to  it.  But  even  that,  we  apprehend,  would  meet  with 
9 trenuous  opposition  from  so  large  and  influential  a  portion  of  the  community, 
as  to  render  its  adoption  and  efficiency  extremely  doubtful." 

The  most  bold  and  stirring  of  his  articles  in  the  New  Yorker, 
was  one  on  the  "  Tyranny  of  Opinion,"  which  was  suggested  by  the 
extraordinary  enthusiasm  with  which  the  Fourth  of  July  was  cel 
ebrated  in  1837.  A  part  of  this  article  is  the  only  specimen  of  the 
young  editor's  performance,  which,  as  a  specimen,  can  find  place  in 
this  chapter.  The  sentiments  which  it  avows,  the  country  h-as  not 
yet  caught  up  with ;  nor  will  it,  for  many  a  year  after  the  hand 
that  wrote  them  is  dust.  After  an  allusion  to  the  celebration,  the 
article  proceeds: 

"  The  great  pervading  evil  of  our  social  condition  is  the  worship  and  the 
bigotry  of  Opinion.  While  the  theory  of  our  political  institutions  asserts  or 
implies  the  absolute  freedom  of  the  human  mind — the  right  not  only  of  free 
thought  and  discussion,  but  of  the  most  unrestrained  action  thereon  within 
the  wide  boundaries  prescribed  by  the  laws  of  the  land,  yet  the  practical  com 
mentary  upon  this  noble  text  is  as  discordant  as  imagination  can  conceive. 
Beneath  the  thin  veil  of  a  democracy  more  free  than  that  of  Athens  in  her 
glory,  we  cloak  a  despotism  more  pernicious  and  revolting  than  that  of 
Turkey  or  China.  It  is  the  despotism  of  Opinion.  Whoever  ventures  to 
j  ropound  opinions  strikingly  at  variance  with  those  of  the  majority,  must  be 
content  to  brave  obloquy,  contempt  and  persecution.  If  political,  they  ex 
clude  him  from  public  employment  and  trust ;  if  religious,  from  social  inter 
course  and  general  regard,  if  not  from  absolute  rights.  However  moderately 
heretical  in  his  political  views,  he  cannot  be  a  justice  of  the  peace,  an  officer 
of  the  customs,  or  a  lamp-lighter ;  while,  if  he  be  positively  and  frankly 
skeptical  in  his  theology,  grave  judges  pronounce  him  incompetent  to  give 


HIS   MA.RRIAGE.  1C5 

testimony  in  courts  of  justice,  though  his  character  for  veracity  be  indubitable. 
That  is  but  a  narrow  view  of  the  subject  which  ascribes  all  this  injustice  to 
the  errors  of  parties  or  individuals ;  it  flows  naturally  from  the  vice  of  the 
age  and  country — the  tyranny  of  Opinion.  It  can  never  be  wholly  rectified 
until  the  whole  community  shall  be  brought  to  feel  and  acknowledge,  that  the 
only  security  for  public  liberty  is  to  be  found  in  the  absolute  and  unqualified 
freedom  of  thought  and  expression,  confining  penal  consequences  to  acts  only 
which  are  detrimental  to  the  welfare  of  society. 

"  The  philosophical  observer  from  abroad  may  well  be  astounded  by  the 
gross  inconsistencies  which  are  presented  by  the  professions  and  the  conduct 
of  our  people.  Thousands  will  flock  together  to  drink  in  the  musical  periods 
of  some  popular  disclaimer  on  the  inalienable  rights  of  man,  the  inviolability 
of  the  immunities  granted  us  by  the  Constitution  and  Laws,  and  the  invariable 
reverence  of  freemen  for  the  majesty  of  law.  They  go  away  delighted  with 
our  institutions,  the  orator  and  themselves.  The  next  day  they  may  be  en 
gaged  in  'lynching'  some  unlucky  individual  who  has  fallen  under  their 
sovereign  displeasure,  breaking  up  a  public  meeting  of  an  obnoxious  cast,  or 
tarring  and  feathering  some  unfortunate  lecturer  or  propagandist,  whose 
views  do  not  square  with  their  own,  but  who  has  precisely  the  same  right  to 
enjoy  and  propagate  his  opinions,  however  erroneous,  as  though  he  inculcated 
nothing  but  what  every  one  knows  and  acknowledges  already.  The  shaine- 
lessness  of  this  incongruity  is  sickening  ;  but  it  is  not  confined  to  this  glaring 
exhibition.  The  sheriff,  town-clerk,  or  constable,  who  finds  the  political 
majority  in  his  district  changed,  either  by  immigration  or  the  course  of 
events,  must  be  content  to  change  too,  or  be  hurled  from  his  station.  Yet 
what  necessary  connection  is  there  between  his  politics  and  his  office  ?  Why 
might  it  not  as  properly  be  insisted  that  a  town-officer  should  be  six  feet 
high,  or  have  red  hair,  if  the  majority  were  so  distinguished,  as  that  he 
should  think  with  them  respecting  the  men  in  high  places  and  the  measures 
projected  or  opposed  by  them  ?  And  how  does  the  proscription  of  a  man  in 
any  way  for  obnoxious  opinions  differ  from  the  most  glaring  tyranny  7" 

In  the  New  Yorker  of  July  16th,  1836,  may  be  seen,  at  the 
head  of  a  long  list  of  recent  marriages,  the  following  interesting  an 
nouncement: 

"In  Immanuel  church,  Warrenton,  North  Carolina,  on  Tues 
day  morning,  5th  inst,  by  Kev.  William  Norwood,  Mr.  Horace 
Greeley,  editor  of  the  New  Yorker,  to  Miss  Mary  Y.  Cheney,  of 
Warrenton,  formerly  of  this  city." 

The  lady  was  by  profession  a  teacher,  and  to  use  the  emphatic 
language  of  one  of  her  friends,  *  crazy  for  knowledge.'  The  ac 
quaintanco  had  been  formed  at  the  Graham  House,  and  was  con- 


166  EDITOR    OF   THE   NEW   YORKER. 

tinued  by  correspondence  after  Miss  Cheney,  in  the  pursuit  of  hei 
vocation,  had  removed  to  North  Carolina.  Thither  the  lover  hied  ; 
the  two  became  one,  and  returned  together  to  New  York.  They 
were  married,  as  he  said  he  would  be,  by  the  Episcopal  form. 
Sumptuous  was  the  attire  of  the  bridegroom  ;  a  suit  of  fine  black 
broadcloth,  and  "  on  this  occasion  only,"  a  pair  of  silk  stockings ! 
It  appears  that  silk  stockings  and  matrimony  were,  in  his  mind,  as 
sociated  ideas,  as  rings  and  matrimony,  orange  blossoms  and  matri 
mony,  are  in  the  minds  of  people  in  general.  Accordingly,  he 
bought  a  pair  of  silk  stockings;  but  trying  on  his  wedding  suit  pre 
vious  to  his  departure  for  the  south,  he  found,  to  his  dismay,  that 
the  stockings  were  completely  hidden  by  the  affluent  terminations 
of  another  garment.  The  question  now  at  once  occurred  to  his  log 
ical  mind,  4  What  is  the  use  of  having  silk  stockings,  if  nobody  can 
see  that  you  have  them  ?'  He  laid  the  case,  it  is  sakl,  before  his 
tailor,  who,  knowing  his  customer,  immediately  removed  the  diffi 
culty  by  cutting  away  a  crescent  of  cloth  from  the  front  of  the 
aforesaid  terminations,  which  rendered  the  silk  stockings  obvious 
to  the  most  casual  observer.  Such  is  the  story.  And  I  regret 
that  other  stories,  and  true  ones,  highly  honorable  to  his  head 
and  heart,  delicacy  forbids  the  telling  of  in  this  place. 

The  editor,  of  course,  turned  his  wedding  tour  to  account  in  the 
way  of  his  profession.  On  his  journey  southward,  Horace  Gree- 
ley  first  saw  Washington,  and  was  impressed  favorably  by  the 
houses  of  Congress,  then  in  session.  He  wrote  admiringly  of  the 
Senate:— "That  the  Senate  of  the  United  States  is  unsurpassed  in 
intellectual  greatness  by  any  body  of  fifty  men  ever  convened,  is 
a  trite  observation.  A  phrenologist  would  fancy  a  strong  con 
firmation  of  his  doctrines  in  the  very  appearance  of  the  Senate ; 
a  physiognomist  would  find  it.  The  most  striking  person  on  the 
floor  is  Mr.  Clay,  who  is  incessantly  in  motion,  and  whose  spare, 
erect  form  betrays  an  easy  dignity  approaching  to  majesty,  and  a 
perfect  gracefulness,  such  as  I  have  never  seen  equaled.  His  coun 
tenance  is  intelligent  and  indicative  of  character;  but  a  glance  at 
his  figure  while  his  face  was  completely  averted,  would  give  assur 
ance  that  he  was  no  common  man.  Mr.  Calhoun  is  one  of  the 
plainest  men  and  certainly  the  dryest,  hardest  speaker  I  ever 
listened  to.  The  flow  of  his  ideas  reminded  me  of  a  barrel  filled 


PECUNIARY   DIFFICULTIES.  167 

with  pebbles,  each  of  which  must  find  great  difficulty  in  escaping 
from  the  very  solidity  and  number  of  those  pressing  upon  it  and 
impeding  its  natural  motion.  Mr.  Calhoun,  though  far  from  being 
a  handsome,  is  still  a  very  remarkable  personage ;  but  Mr.  Benton 
has  the  least  intellectual  countenance  I  ever  saw  on  a  sc-nator.  Mr. 
Webster  was  not  in  his  place."  *  *  *  *  "  The  best 
speech  was  that  of  Mr.  Crittenden,  of  Kentucky.  That  man  is  not 
appreciated  so  highly  as  he  should  and  must  be.  He  has  a 
rough  readiness,  a  sterling  good  sense,  a  republican  manner  and 
feeling,  and  a  vein  of  biting,  though  homely  satire,  which  will 
yet  raise  him  to  distinction  in  the  National  Councils." 

Were  Greeley  and  Co.  making  their  fortune  meanwhile  ?  Far 
from  it.  To  edit  a  paper  well  is  one  thing ;  to  make  it  pay  as  a 
business  is  another.  The  New  Yorker  had  soon  become  a  famous, 
an  admired,  and  an  influential  paper.  Subscriptions  poured  in ;  the 
establishment  looked  prosperous ;  but  it  was  not.  The  sorry  tale 
of  its  career  as  a  business  is  very  fully  and  forcibly  told  in  the  vari 
ous  addresses  to,  and  chats  with,  Our  Patrons,  which  appear  in  the 
volumes  of  1837,  that  'year  of  ruin,'  and  of  the  years  of  slow  re 
covery  from  ruin  which  followed.  In  October,  1837,  the  editor 
thus  stated  his  melancholy  case  : 

"  Ours  is  a  plain  story  ;  and  it  shall  be  plainly  told.  The  New  Yorker  was 
established  with  very  moderate  expectations  of  pecuniary  advantage,  but 
with  strong  hopes  that  its  location  at  the  head-quarters  of  intelligence  for  the 
continent,  and  its  cheapness,  would  insure  it,  if  well  conducted,  such  a  patron 
age  as  would  be  ultimately  adequate,  at  least,  to  the  bare  expenses  of  its  pub 
lication.  Starting  with  scarce  a  shadow  of  patronage,  it  had  four  thousand 
five  hundred  subscribers  at  the  close  of  the  first  year,  obtained  at  an  outlay  of 
three  thousand  dollars  beyond  the  income  in  that  period.  This  did  not  mate 
rially  disappoint  the  publishers'  expectations.  Another  year  passed,  and  their 
subscription  increased  to  seven  thousand,  with  a  further  outlay,  beyond  all  re 
ceipts,  of  two  thousand  dollars.  A  third  year  was  commenced  with  two  edi 
tions — folio  and  quarto — of  our  journal ;  and  at  its  close,  their  conjoint  sub 
scriptions  amounted  to  near  nine  thousand  five  hundred  ;  yet  our  receipts  had 
again  fallen  two  thousand  dollars  behind  our  absolutely  necessary  expendi 
tures.  Such  was  our  situation  at  the  commencement  of  this  year  of  ruin  ; 
and  we  found  ourselves  wholly  unable  to  continue  our  former  reliance  on  the 
honor  and  ultimate  good  faith  of  our  backward  subscribers.  Two  thousand  five 
hundred  of  them  were  stricken  from  our  list,  and  every  possible  retrenchment  of 


168  EDITOR  OF  THE  NEW  YORKER 

our  expenditures  effected.  With  the  exercise  of  the  most  parsimonious  frugal 
ity,  and  aided  by  (he  extreme  kindness  and  generous  confidence  of  our  friends, 
we  have  barely  and  with  great  difficulty  kept  our  bark  afloat.  For  the  future,  we 
have  no  resource  but  in  the  justice  and  generosity  of  our  patrons.  Our  humble 
portion  of  this  world's  goods  has  long  since  been  swallowed  up  in  the  all-devour 
ing  vortex ;  both  of  the  Editor's  original  associates  in  the  undertaking  have 
abandoned  it  with  loss,  and  those  who  now  fill  their  places  have  invested  to  the 
full  amount  of  their  ability.  Not  a  farthing  has  been  drawn  from  the  concern 
by  any  one  save  for  services  rendered ;  and  the  allowance  to  the  proprietors 
having  charge  respectively  of  the  editorial  and  publishing  departments  has 
been  far  less  than  their  services  would  have  commanded  elsewhere.  The  last  six 
months  have  been  more  disastrous  than  any  which  preceded  them,  as  we  have 
continued  to  fall  behind  our  expenses  without  a  corresponding  increase  of  pat 
ronage.  A  large  amount  is  indeed  due  us  ;  but  we  find  its  collection  almost 
impossible,  except  in  inconsiderable  portions  and  at  a  ruinous  expense.  All 
appeals  to  the  honesty  and  good  faith  of  the  delinquents  seem  utterly  fruit 
less.  As  a  last  resource,  therefore,  and  one  beside  which  we  have  no  alterna 
tive,  we  hereby  announce,  that  from  and  after  this  date,  the  price  of  the  New 
Yorker  will  be  three  dollars  per  annum  for  the  folio,  and  four  dollars  for  the 
quarto  edition. 

"  Friends  of  the  New  Yorker  !  Patrons  !  we  appeal  to  you,  not  for  charity, 
but  for  justice.  Whoever  among  you  is  in  our  debt,  no  matter  how  small  the 
sum,  is  guilty  of  a  moral  wrong  in  withholding  the  payment.  We  bitterly 
need  it — we  have  a  right  to  expect  it.  Six  years  of  happiness  could  not  atone 
for  the  horrors  which  blighted  hopes,  agonizing  embarrassments,  and  gloomy 
apprehensions — all  arising  in  great  measure  from  your  neglect — have  con 
spired  to  heap  upon  us  during  the  last  six  months.  We  have  borne  all  in  si 
lence  :  we  now  tell  you  we  must  have  our  pay.  Our  obligations  for  the  next 
two  months  are  alarmingly  heavy,  and  they  must  be  satisfied,  at  whatever  sac 
rifice.  We  shall  cheerfully  give  up  whatever  may  remain  to  us  of  property, 
and  mortgage  years  of  future  exertion,  sooner  than  incur  a  shadow  of  dishonor, 
by  subjecting  those  who  have  credited  us  to  loss  or  inconvenience.  We  must 
pay  ;  and  for  the  means  of  doing  it  we  appeal  most  earnestly  to  you.  It  is 
possible  that  we  might  still  further  abuse  the  kind  solicitude  of  our  friends ; 
but  the  thought  is  agony.  We  should  be  driven  to  what  is  but  a  more  delicate 
mode  of  beggary,  when  justice  from  those  who  withhold  the  hard  earnings  of 
our  unceasing  toil  would  place  us  above  the  revolting  necessity !  At  any  rate, 
we  will  not  submit  to  the  humiliation  without  an  effort. 

"  We  have  struggled  until  we  can  no  longer  doubt  that,  with  the  present 
jurrency — and  there  seems  little  hope  of  an  immediate  improvement — we  can 
not  live  at  our  former  prices.  The  suppression  of  small  notes  was  a  blow  to 
cheap  city  papers,  from  which  there  is  no  hope  of  recovery.  With  a  currency 
including  notes  of  two  and  three  dollars,  one  half  our  receipts  would  come  to 


PECUNIARY   DIFFICULTIES.  109 

us  directly  from  the  subscribers ;  without  such  notes,  we  must  sibmit  to  an 
agent's  charge  on  nearly  every  collection.  Besides,  the  notes  from  the  South 
Western  States  are  now  at  from  twenty  to  thirty  per  cent,  discount ;  and  have 
been  more  :  those  from  the  West  range  from  six  to  twenty.  All  notes  beyond 
the  Delaware  River  range  from  twice  to  ten  times  the  discount  charged  upon 
them  when  we  started  the  New  Yorker.  We  cannot  afford  to  depend  exclu 
sively  upon  the  patronage  to  be  obtained  in  our  immediate  neighborhood ;  wo 
cannot  retain  distant  patronage  without  receiving  the  money  in  which  alone 
our  subscribers  can  pay.  But  one  course,  then,  is  left  us — to  tax  our  valuable 
patronage  with  the  delinquencies  of  the  worse  than  worthless — the  paying  for 
the  non-paying,  and  those  who  send  ua  par-money,  with  the  evils  of  our  pres 
ent  depraved  and  depreciated  currency." 

Two  years  after,  there  appeared  another  chapter  of  pecuniary  his 
tory,  written  in  a  more  hopeful  strain.  A  short  extract  will  com 
plete  the  reader's  knowledge  of  the  subject : 

"  Since  the  close  of  the  year  of  ruin  (1837),  we  hare  pursued  the  even  tenor 
of  our  way  with  such  fortune  as  was  vouchsafed  us ;  and,  if  never  elated  with 
any  signal  evidence  of  popular  favor,  we  have  not  since  been  doomed  to  gazo 
fixedly  for  months  into  the  yawning  abyss  of  Ruin,  and  feel  a  moral  certainty 
that,  however  averted  for  a  time,  that  must  be  our  goal  at  last.  On  the  con 
trary,  our  affairs  have  elowly  but  steadily  improved  for  some  time  past,  and 
we  now  hope  that  a  few  months  more  will  place  us  beyond  the  reach  of  pecu 
niary  embarrassments,  and  enable  us  to  add  new  attractions  to  our  journal. 

11  And  this  word  '  attraction1  brings  us  to  the  confession  that  the  success  of 
our  enterprise,  if  success  there  has  been,  has  not  been  at  all  of  a  pecuniary 
cast  thus  far.  Probably  we  lack  the  essential  elements  of  that  very  desirable 
kind  of  success.  There  have  been  errors,  mismanagement  and  losses  in  the 
conduct  of  our  business.  "We  mean  that  we  lack,  or  do  not  take  kindly  to,  the 
arts  which  contribute  to  a  newspaper  sensation.  When  our  journal  first  ap 
peared,  a  hundred  copies  marked  the  extent  to  which  the  public  curiosity 
claimed  its  perusal.  Others  establish  new  papers,  (the  New  World  and  Brother 
Jonathan  Mr.  Greeley  might  have  instanced,)  even  without  literary  reputa 
tion,  as  we  were,  and  five  or  ten  thousand  copies  are  taken  at  once — just  to 
see  what  the  new  thing  is.  And  thence  they  career  onward  on  the  crest  of  a 
towering  wave. 

"  Since  the  New  Yorker  was  first  issued,  seven  copartners  in  its  publication 
have  successively  withdrawn  from  the  concern,  generally,  we  regret  to  say, 
without  having  improved  their  fortunes  by  the  connection,  and  most  of  them 
with  the  conviction  that  the  work,  however  valuable,  was  not  calculated  to 
prove  lucrative  to  its  proprietors.  'You  don't  humbug  enough,'  has  been 
the  complaint  of  more  than  one  of  our  retiring  associates ;  '  you  ought  to 


170  EDITOR    OF   THE   NEW   YORKER. 

make  more  noise,  and  vaunt  your  own  merits.  The  world  wul  never  believe 
you  print  a  good  paper  unless  you  tell  them  so.'  Our  course  has  not  been 
changed  by  these  representations.  We  have  endeavored  in  all  things  to 
maintain  our  self-respect  and  deserve  the  good  opinion  of  others  ;  if  we  have  not 
succeeded  in  the  latter  particular,  the  failure  is  much  to  be  regretted,  buthnrdly 
to  be  amended  by  pursuing  the  vaporous  course  indicated.  If  our  journal  be  a 
good  one,  those  who  read  it  will  be  very  apt  to  discover  the  fact ;  if  it  be  not, 
our  assertion  of  its  excellence,  however  positive  and  frequent,  would  scarcely 
outweigh  the  weekly  evidence  still  more  abundantly  and  convincingly  fur 
nished.  "We  are  aware  that  this  view  of  the  case  is  controverted  by  practical 
results  in  some  cases  ;  but  we  are  content  with  the  old  course,  and  have  never 
envied  the  success  which  Merit  or  Pretense  may  attain  by  acting  as  its  own 
trumpeter." 

The  New  Yorker  never,  during  the  seven  years  of  its  existence 
became  profitable ;  and  its  editor,  during  the  greater  part  of  the 
time,  derived  even  his  means  of  subsistence  either  from  the  business 
of  job  printing  or  from  other  sources,  which  will  be  alluded  to  in  a 
moment.  The  causes  of  the  New  Yorker's  signal  failure  as  a  busi 
ness  seem  to  have  been  these : 

1.  It  was  a  very  good  paper,  suited  only  to  the  more  intelligent 
class  of  the  community,  which,  in  all  times  and  countries,  is  a  small 
class.     u  We  have  a  pride,"  said  the  editor  once,  and  truly,  "in  be 
lieving  that  we  might,  at  any  time,  render  our  journal  more  attrac 
tive  to  the  million  by  rendering  it  less  deserving ;  and  that  by  merely 
considering  what  would  be  sought  after  and  read  with  avidity,  with 
out  regard  to  its  moral  or  its  merit,  we  might  easily  become  popu 
lar  at  the  mere  expense  of  our  own  self-approval." 

2.  It  seldom  praised,  never  puffed,  itself.    The  editor,  however, 
seems  to  have  thought,  that  he  might  have  done  both  with  pro 
priety.     Or  was  he  speaking  in  pure  irony,  when  he  gave  the  Mirror 
this  '  first-rate  notice.'     "  There  is  one  excellent  quality,"  said  he, 
u  which  has  always  been  a  characteristic  of  the  Mirror — the  virtue 
of  self-appreciation.     We  call  it  a  virtue,  and  it  is  not  merely  one 
in  itself,  but  the  parent  of  many  others.     As  regards  our  vocation, 
it  is  alike  necessary  and  just.    The  world  should  be  made  to  under 
stand,  that  the  aggregate  of  talent,  acquirement,  tact,  industry,  and 
general  intelligence  which  is  required  to  sustain  creditably  the  char 
acter  of  a  public  journal,  might,  if  judiciously  parceled  out,  form 
-.he  stamina  of,  at  least,  one  professor  of  languages,  two  brazen  lee- 


171 

turers  on  science,  ethics,  or  phrenology,  and  three  average  congress 
ional  or  other  demagogues.  Why,  then,  should  starvation  wave 
his  skeleton  scepter  in  terrorem  over  such  a  congregation  of  avail 
able  excellences  2" 

3.  The  leading  spirit  of  the  New  Yorker  had  a  singular,  a  consti 
tutional,  an  incurable  inability  to  conduct  business*     His  character 
is  the  exact  opposite  of  that  *  hard  man '  in  the  gospel,  who  reaped 
where  he  had  not  sown.     He  was  too  amiable,  too  confiding,  too 
absent,  and  too  *  easy,'  for  a  business  man.     If  a  boy  stole  his  let 
ters  from  the  post-office,  he  would  admonish  him,  and  either  let  him 
go  or  try  him  again.    If  a  writer  in  extremity  offered  to  do  certain 
paragraphs  for  three  dollars  a  week,  he  would  say,  "  No,  that 's  too 
little;  I '11  give  you  five,  till  you  can  get  something  better."    On 
one  occasion,  he  went  to  the  post-office  himself,  and  receiving  a 
large  number  of  letters,  put  them,  it  is  said,  into  the  pockets  of 
his  overcoat.    On  reaching  the  office,  he  hung  the  overcoat  on  its 
accustomed  peg,  and  was  soon  lost  in  the  composition  of  an  article. 
It  was  the  last  of  the  chilly  days  of  spring,  and  he  thooght  no  more 
either  of  his  overcoat  or  its  pockets,  till  the  autumn.     Letters  kept 
coming  in  complaining  of  the  non-receipt  of  papers  which  had  been 
ordered  and  paid  for;  and  the  office  was  sorely  perplexed.    On  the 
first  cool  day  in  October,  when  the  editor  was  shaking  a  summer's 
dirt  from  his  overcoat,  the  missing  letters  were  found,  and  the  mys 
tery  was  explained.    Another  story  gives  us  a  peep  into  the  office 
of  the  New  Yorker.    A  gentleman  called,  one  day,  and  asked  to 
see  the  editor.     **  I  am  the  editor,"  said  a  little  coxcomb  who  was 
temporarily  in  charge  of  the  paper.     u  You  are  not  the  person  I 
want  to  see,"  said  the  gentleman.     uOh!"  said  the  puppy,  "you 
wish  to  see  the  Printer.    He 's  not  in  town."    The  men  in  the  com 
posing-room  chanced  to  overhear  this  colloquy,  and  thereafter,  our 
hero  was  called  by  the  nickname  of  4  The  Printer,'  and  by  that 
alone,  whether  he  was  present  or  absent.    It  was  "  Printer,  how 
will  you  have  this  set?" or  "Printer,  we're  waiting  for  copy."    All 
this  was  very  pleasant  and  amiable ;  but,  businesses  which  pay  are 
never  carried  on  in  that  style.     It  is  a  pity,  but  a  fact,  that  busi 
nesses  which  pay,  are  generally  conducted  in  a  manner  which  is 
exceedingly  disagreeable  to  those  who  assist  in  them. 

4.  The  Year  of  Rain. 


172  EDITOR    OF   THE   NEW   YCRKER. 

5.  The  l  cauh  principle,'  the  only  safe  one,  had  not  bejn  yet  ap 
plied  to  the  newspaper  business.  The  New  Yorker  lost,  on  an  aver 
age,  1,200  dollars  a  year  by  the  removal  of  subscribers  to  parts 
unknown,  who  left  without  paying  for  their  paper,  or  notifying  the 
office  of  their  departure. 

Of  the  unnumbered  pangs  that  mortals  know,  pecuniary  anxiety 
is  to  a  sensitive  and  honest  young  heart  the  bitterest.  To  live  up 
on  the  edge  of  a  gulf  that  yawns  hideously  and  always  at  our  feet, 
to  feel  the  ground  giving  way  under  the  house  that  holds  our  hap- 
piness,  to  walk  in  the  pathway  of  avalanches,  to  dwell  under  a 
volcano  rumbling  prophetically  of  a  coming  eruption,  is  not  pleas* 
ant.  But  welcome  yawning  abyss,  welcome  earthquake,  avalanche, 
volcano  1  They  can  crush,  and  burn,  and  swallow  a  man,  but  not 
degrade  him.  The  terrors  they  inspire  are  not  to  be  compared 
with  the  deadly  and  withering  FEAK  that  crouches  sullenly  in  the 
soul  of  that  honest  man  who  owes  much  money  to  many  people, 
and  cannot  think  how  or  when  he  can  pay  it.  That  alone  has 
power  to  take  from  life  all  its  charm,  and  from  duty  all  its  interest. 
For  other  sorrows  there  is  a  balm.  That  is  an  evil  unmingled, 
while  it  lasts ;  and  the  light  which  it  throws  upon  the  history  of 
mankind  and  the  secret  of  man's  struggle  with  fate,  is  purchased 
at  a  price  fully  commensurate  with  the  value  of  that  light. 

The  editor  of  the  New  Yorker  suffered  all  that  a  man  could  suf 
fer  from  this  dread  cause.  In  private  letters  he  alludes,  but  only 
alludes,  to  his  anguish  at  this  period.  "Through  most  of  the  time," 
he  wrote  years  afterward,  "  I  was  very  poor,  and  for  four  years  re 
ally  bankrupt ;  though  always  paying  my  notes  and  keeping  my 
word,  but  living  as  poorly  as  possible."  And  again :  "  My  embar 
rassments  were  sometimes  dreadful ;  not  that  I  feared  destitution, 
but  the  fear  of  involving  my  friends  in  my  misfortunes  was  very 
bitter."  He  came  one  afternoon  into  the  house  of  a  friend,  and 
handing  her  a  copy  of  his  paper,  said  :  u  There,  Mrs.  S.,  that  is  the 
last  number  of  the  New  Yorker  you  will  ever  see.  I  can  secure 
my  friends  against  loss  if  I  stop  now,  and  I  '11  not  risk  their  money 
by  holding  on  any  longer."  He  went  over  that  evening  to  Mr. 
Gregory,  to  make  known  to  him  his  determination  ;  but  that  con 
stant  and  invincible  friend  would  not  listen  to  it.  He  insisted  on 
his  continuing  the  struggle,  and  offered  his  assistance  with  such 


PARK  BENJAMIN. HENRY  J.  RAYMOND.         173 

frank  and  earnest  cordiality,  that  our  hero's  scruples  were  at 
length  removed,  and  he  came  home  elate,  and  resolved  to  battle 
another  year  with  delinquent  subscribers  and  a  depreciated  currency. 

During  the  early  years  of  the  New  Yorker,  Mr.  Greeley  had  lit 
tle  regular  assistance  in  editing  the  paper.  In  1839,  Mr.  Park  Ben 
jamin  contributed  much  to  the  interest  of  its  columns  by  his  lively 
and  humorous  critiques ;  but  his  connection  with  the  paper  was  not 
of  long  duration.  It  was  long  enough,  however,  to  make  him  ac 
quainted  with  the  character  of  his  associate.  On  retiring,  in  Octo 
ber,  1839,  he  wrote :  "  Grateful  to  my  feelings  has  been  my  inter 
course  with  the  readers  of  the  New  Yorker  and  with  its  principal 
editor  and  proprietor.  By  the  former  I  hope  my  humble  efforts 
will  not  be  unremembered ;  by  the  latter  I  am  happy  to  believe 
that  the  sincere  friendship  which  I  entertain  for  him  is  reciproca 
ted.  I  still  insist  upon  my  editorial  right  so  far  as  to  say  in  oppo 
sition  to  any  veto  which  my  coadjutor  may  interpose,  that  I  can 
not  leave  the  association  which  has  been  so  agreeable  to  me  with 
out  paying  to  sterling  worth,  unbending  integrity,  high  moral  prin 
ciple  and  ready  kindness,  their  just  due.  These  qualities  exist  in 
the  character  of  the  man  with  whom  now  I  part ;  and  by  all,  to 
whom  such  qualities  appear  admirable,  must  such  a  character  be 
esteemed.  His  talents,  his  industry,  require  no  commendation  from 
me ;  the  readers  of  this  journal  know  them  too  well ;  the  public  is 
sufficiently  aware  of  the  manner  in  which  they  have  been  exerted. 
What  I  have  said  has  flowed  from  my  heart,  tributary  rather  to  its 
own  emotions  than  to  the  subject  which  has  called  them  forth; 
his  plain  good  name  is  his  best  eulogy." 

A  few  months  later,  Mr.  Henry  J.  Raymond,  a  recent  graduate 
of  Burlington  College,  Vermont,  came  to  the  city  to  seek  his  for 
tune.  He  had  written  some  creditable  sketches  for  the  New 
Yorker,  over  the  signature  of  "Fantome,"  and  on  reaching  the 
city  called  upon  Horace  Greeley.  The  result  was  that  he  entered 
the  office  as  an  assistant  editor  "  till  he  could  get  so.nething  bet 
ter,"  and  it  may  encourage  some  young,  hard-working,  urn  °>cognized, 
ill-paid  journalist,  to  know  that  the  editor  of  the  New  York  Daily 
Times  began  his  editorial  career  upon  a  salary  of  eight  dollars  a 
week.  The  said  unrecognized,  however,  should  further  be  informed, 
that  Mr.  Raymond  is  the  hardest  and  swiftest  wrrker  connected 
with  the  New  York  Press. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

THE   JEFFERSONIAN. 

Objects  of  the  Jeflersonian — Its  character — A  novel  Glorious-Victory  paragraph — Tho 
Graves  and  Cilley  duel— The  Editor  overworked. 

THE  slender  income  derived  from  the  New  Yorker  obliged  its 
editor  to  engage  in  other  labors.  He  wrote,  as  occasion  offered,  for 
various  periodicals.  The  Daily  Whig  he  supplied  with  its  leading 
article  for  several  months,  and  in  1838  undertook  the  entire  edito 
rial  charge  of  the  Jeffersonian,  a  weekly  paper  of  the  c  campaign  * 
description,  started  at  Albany  on  the  third  of  March,  and  continu 
ing  in  existence  for  one  year. 

With  the  conception  and  the  establishment  of  the  Jeffersonian, 
Horace  Greeley  had  nothing  to  do.  It  was  published  under  the 
auspices  and  by  the  direction  of  the  Whig  Central  Committee  of 
the  State  of  New  York,  and  the  fund  for  its  establishment  was  con 
tributed  by  the  leading  politicians  of  the  State  in  sums  of  ten  dol 
lars.  "  I  never  sought  the  post  of  its  editor,"  wrote  Mr.  Greeley  in 
1848,  "  but  was  sought  for  it  by  leading  whigs  whom  I  had  never 
before  personally  known."  It  was  afforded  at  fifty  cents  a  year, 
attained  rapidly  a  circulation  of  fifteen  thousand ;  the  editor,  who 
spent  three  days  of  each  week  in  Albany,  receiving  for  his  year's 
services  a  thousand  dollars.  The  ostensible  object  of  the  paper  was 
— to  quote  the  language  of  its  projectors — "to  furnish  to  every 
person  within  the  State  of  New  York  a  complete  summary  of  politi 
cal  intelligence,  at  a  rate  which  shall  place  it  absolutely  within  the 
reach  of  every  man  who  will  read  it."  But,  according  to  the  sub 
sequent  explanation  of  the  Tribune,  "it  was  established  on  the  im 
pulse  of  th-  whig  tornado  of  1837,  to  secure  a  like  result  in  1838, 
so  as  to  give  the  Whig  party  a  Governor,  Lieutenant  Governor, 
Senate,  Assembly,  U.  S.  Senator,  Congressmen,  and  all  the  vast  ex 
ecutive  patronage  of  the  State,  then  amounting  to  millions  of  dol- 
jirs  a  year/ 


GLORIOUS    VICTORY.  175 

The  Jeffersonian  was  a  good  paper.  It  was  published  in  a  neat 
••  .  to  form  of  eight  pages.  Its  editorials,  generally  few  and  brief, 
were  written  to  convince,  not  to  inflame,  to  enlighten,  not  to  blind. 
It  published  a  great  many  of  the  best  speeches  of  the  day,  some 
for,  some  against,  its  own  principles.  Each  number  contained  a  full 
and  well-compiled  digest  of  political  intelligence,  and  one  page,  or 
•nore,  of  general  intelligence.  It  was  not,  in  the  slightest  degree, 
like  what  is  generally  understood  by  a  *  campaign  paper.'  Capital 
letters  and  po;nts  of  admiration  were  as  little  used  as  in  the  sedate 
and  courteous  columns  of  the  Jf ew  Yorker ;  and  there  is  scarcely 
anything  to  be  found  of  the  '  Glorious- Victory '  sort  except  this : 

"  Glorioiw  Victory !  *  We  have  met  the  enemy,  and  they  are  ours !'  Our 
whole  ticket,  with  the  exception  of  town  clerk,  one  constable,  three  fence-view 
ers,  a  pound-master  and  two  hog-reeves  elected !  There  never  was  such  a 
liumph !" 

Stop,  my  friend.  Have  you  elected  the  beet  men  to  the  several  offices  to  be 
filled  1  Have  you  chosen  men  who  have  hitherto  evinced  not  only  capacity 
but  integrity  1 — men  whom  you  would  trust  implicity  in  every  relation  and 
business  of  life  ?  Above  all,  have  you  selected  the  very  best  person  in  the 
township  for  the  important  office  of  Justice  of  the  Peace  ?  If  yea,  we  rejoice 
with  you.  If  the  men  whose  election  will  best  subserve  the  cause  of  virtue 
and  public  order  have  been  chosen,  even  your  opponents  will  have  little  rea 
son  for  regret.  If  it  be  otherwise,  you  have  achieved  but  an  empty  and  du 
bious  triumph. 

It  would  be  gratifying  to  know  what  the  Whig  Central  Commit 
tee  thought  of  such  unexampled  *  campaign  '  language.  In  a  word, 
the  Jeffersonian  was  a  better  fifty  cents'  worth  of  thought  and  fact 
than  had  previously,  or  has  since,  been  afforded,  in  the  form  of  a 
weekly  paper. 

The  columns  of  the  Jeffersonian  afford  little  material  for  the  pur 
poses  of  this  volume.  There  are  scarcely  any  of  those  character 
istic  touches,  those  autobiographical  allusions,  that  contribute  so 
much  to  the  interest  of  other  papers  with  which  our  hero  has  been 
connected.  This  is  one,  however : 

(Whosoever  may  have  picked  up  the  wallet  of  the  editor  of  this 
paper — lost  somewhere  near  State  street,  about  the  20th  ult.,  shall 
receive  half  the  contents,  all  round,  by  returning  the  balance  to  this 
office.) 


176  THE   JEFFERSONIAN. 

I  will  indulge  the  reader  with  one  article  entire  from"  the  Jeffer- 
sonian ;  1,  because  it  is  interesting  ;  2,  because  it  will  serve  to  show 
the  spirit  and  the  manner  of  the  editor  in  recording  and  comment 
ing  upon  the  topics  of  the  day.  He  has  since  written  more  em 
phatic,  but  not  more  effective  articles,  on  similar  subjects  : 

THE  TRAGEDY  AT  WASHINGTON. 

THE  whole  country  is  shocked,  and  its  moral  sensibilities  outraged,  by  the 
horrible  tragedy  lately  perpetrated  at  Washington,  of  which  a  member  of 
Congress  was  the  victim.  It  was,  indeed,  an  awful,  yet  we  will  hope  not  a 
profitless  catastrophe ;  and  we  blush  for  human  nature  when  we  observe  the 
most  systematic  efforts  used  to  pervert  to  purposes  of  party  advantage  and 
personal  malignity,  a  result  which  should  be  sacred  to  the  interests  of  human 
ity  and  morality — to  the  stern  inculcation  and  enforcement  of  a  reverence  for 
the  laws  of  the  land  and  the  mandates  of  God. 

Nearly  a  month  since,  a  charge  of  corruption,  or  an  offer  to  sell  official  in 
fluence  and  exertion  for  a  pecuniary  consideration,  against  some  unnamed 
member  of  Congress,  was  transmitted  to  the  New  York  Courier  and  Enquirer 
by  its  correspondent,  '  the  Spy  in  Washington.'  Its  appearance  in  that  journal 
called  forth  a  resolution  from  Mr.  Wise,  that  the  charge  be  investigated  by 
the  House.  On  this  an  irregular  and  excited  debate  arose,  which  consumed  a 
day  or  two,  and  which  was  signalized  by  severe  attacks  on  the  Public  Press 
of  this  country,  and  on  the  letter-writers  from  Washington.  In  particular, 
the  Courier  and  Enquirer,  in  which  this  charge  appeared,  its  chief  Editor,  and 
its  correspondent  the  Spy,  were  stigmatized ;  and  Mr.  Cilley,  a  member  from 
Maine,  waa  among  those  who  gave  currency  to  the  charges.  Col.  Webb,  the 
Editor,  on  the  appearance  of  these  charges,  instantly  proceeded  to  Washington, 
and  there  addressed  a  note  to  Mr.  Cilley  on  the  subject.  That  note,  it  ap 
pears,  was  courteous  and  dignified  in  ita  language,  merely  inquiring  of  Mr. 
C.  if  his  remarks,  published  in  the  Globe,  were  intended  to  convey  any  per 
sonal  disrespect  to  the  writer,  and  containing  no  menace  of  any  kind.  It  was 
handed  to  Mr.  Cilley  by  Mr.  Graves,  a  member  from  Kentucky,  but  declined 
by  Mr.  C.,  on  the  ground,  as  was  understood,  that  he  did  not  choose  to  be 
drawn  into  controversy  with  Editors  of  public  journals  in  regard  to  his  remarks 
in  the  House.  This  was  correct  and  honorable  ground.  The  Constitution 
expressly  provides  that  members  of  Congress  shall  not  be  responsible  else 
where  for  words  spoken  in  debate,  and  the  provision  is  a  most  noble  and 
necessary  one. 

But  Mr.  Graves  considered  the  reply  as  placing  him  in  an  equivocal  posi 
tion.  If  a  note  transmitted  through  his  hands  had  been  declined,  as  was 
liable  to  be  understood,  because  the  writer  was  not  worthy  the  treatment  of 
a  gentleman,  the  dishonor  was  reflected  on  himself  as  the  bearer  of  a  disgrace- 


THE    GRAVES   AND    CILLEY   DUEL.  17*7 

fill  message.  Mr.  Graves,  therefore,  wrote  a  note  to  Mr.  C.,  asking  h,m  if 
he  were  correct  in  his  understanding  that  the  letter  in  question  was  declined 
because  Mr.  C.  could  not  consent  to  hold  himself  accountable  to  public  jour 
nalists  for  words  spoken  in  debate,  and  not  on  grounds  of  personal  objection 
to  Col.  Webb  as  a  gentleman.  To  this  note  Mr.  Cilley  replied,  on  the  ad 
visement  of  his  friends,  that  he  declined  the  note  of  Col.  Webb,  because  he 
"  chose  to  be  drawn  into  no  controversy  with  him,"  and  added  that  he 
"  neither  affirmed  nor  denied  anything  in  regard  to  his  character."  This  was 
considered  by  Mr.  Graves  as  involving  him  fully  in  the  dilemma  which  he 
was  seeking  to  avoid,  and  amounting  to  an  impeachment  of  his  veracity,  and 
he  now  addressed  another  note  to  inquire,  "  whether  you  declined  to  receive  his 
(Col.  Webb's)  communication  on  the  ground  of  any  personal  objection  to  him 
as  a  gentleman  of  honor  ?"  To  this  query  Mr.  Cilley  declined  to  give  an 
/finswer,  denying  the  right  of  Mr.  G.  to  propose  it.  The  next  letter  in  course 
was  a  challenge  from  Mr.  Graves  by  the  hand  of  Mr.  Wise,  promptly  respond 
ed  to  by  Mr.  Cilley  through  Gen.  Jones  of  Wisconsin. 

The  weapons  selected  by  Mr.  Cilley  were  rifles  ;  the  distance  eighty  yards. 
(It  was  said  that  Mr.  Cilley  was  practicing  with  the  selected  weapon  the 
morning  of  accepting  the  challenge,  and  that  he  lodged  eleven  balls  in  suc 
cession  in  a  space  of  four  inches  square.)  Mr.  Graves  experienced  some  diffi 
culty  in  procuring  a  rifle,  and  asked  time,  which  was  granted ;  and  Gen. 
Jones,  Mr.  Cilley' s  second,  tendered  him  the  use  of  his  own  rifle  ;  but,  mean 
time,  Mr.  Graves  had  procured  one. 

The  challenge  was  delivered  at  12  o'clock  on  Friday ;  the  hour  selected  by 
Mr.  Cilley  was  12  of  the  following  day.  His  unexpected  choice  of  rifles,  how 
ever,  and  Mr.  Graves'  inability  to  procure  one,  delayed  the  meeting  till  2 
o'clock. 

The  first  fire  was  ineffectual.  Mr.  Wise,  as  second  of  the  challenging  party, 
now  called  all  parties  together,  to  effect  a  reconciliation.  Mr.  C.  declining  to 
negotiate  while  under  challenge,  it  was  suspended  to  give  room  for  explana 
tion.  Mr.  Wise  remarked — "  Mr.  .Jones,  these  gentlemen  have  come  here 
without  animosity  towards  each  other  ;  they  are  fighting  merely  upon  a  point 
of  honor ;  cannot  Mr.  Cilley  assign  some  reason  for  not  receiving  at  Mr. 
Graves'  hands  Colonel  Webb's  communication,  or  make  some  disclaimer  which 
will  relieve  Mr.  Graves  from  his  position  ?"  The  reply  was — "  I  am  author 
ized  by  my  friend,  Mr.  Cilley,  to  say  that  in  declining  to  receive  the  note  from 
Mr.  Graves,  purporting  to  be  from  Colonel  Webb,  he  meant  no  disrespect  to 
Mr.  Graves,  because  he  entertained  for  him  then,  as  he  now  does,  the  highest 
respect  and  the  most  kind  feelings  ;  but  that  he  declined  to  receive  the  note 
because  he  chose  not  to  be  drawn  into  any  controversy  with  Colonel  Webb.' 
This  is  Mr.  Jones'  version  ;  Mr.  Wise  thinks  he  said,  "  My  friend  refuses  to 
disclaim  disrespect  to  Colonel  Webb,  because  he  does  not  choose  to  be  drawn 
Into  an  expression  of  opinion  as  to  him."  After  consultation,  Mr  Wise  re- 

8* 


178  THE   JEFFERSONIAN. 

turned  to  Mr.  Jones  and  said,  "  Mr.  Jones,  this  answer  leaves  Mr.  Graves  pre 
cisely  in  the  position  in  which  he  stood  when  the  challenge  was  sent." 

Another  exchange  of  shots  was  now  had  to  no  purpose,  and  another  attempt 
at  reconciliation  was  likewise  unsuccessful.  The  seconds  appear  to  have  been 
mutually  and  anxiously  desirous  that  the  affair  should  here  terminate,  but  no 
arrangement  could  be  effected.  Mr.  Graves  insisted  that  his  antagonist  should 
place  his  refusal  to  receive  the  message  of  which  he  was  the  bearer  on  some 
grounds  which  did  not  imply  such  an  opinion  of  the  writer  as  must  reflect  dis 
grace  on  the  bearer.  He  endeavored  to  have  the  refusal  placed  on  the  ground 
that  Mr.  C.  "  did  not  hold  himself  accountable  to  Colonel  Webb  for  words 
spoken  in  debate."  This  was  declined  by  Mr.  Cilley,  and  the  duel  proceeded. 

The  official  statement,  drawn  up  by  the  two  seconds,  would  seem  to  import 
that  but  three  shots  were  exchanged ;  but  other  accounts  state  positively  that 
Mr.  Cilley  fell  at  the  fourth  fire.  He  was  shot  through  the  body,  and  died  in 
two  minutes.  On  seeing  that  he  had  fallen,  badly  wounded,  Mr.  Graves  ex 
pressed  a  wish  to  see  him,  and  was  answered  by  Mr.  Jones — "  My  friend  la 
dead,  sir!" 

Colonel  Webb  first  heard  of  the  difficulty  which  had  arisen  on  Friday  even 
ing,  but  was  given  to  understand  that  the  meeting  would  not  take  place  for 
several  days.  On  the  following  morning,  however,  he  had  reason  to  suspect 
the  truth.  He  immediately  armed  himself,  and  with  two  friends  proceeded  to 
Mr.  Cilley'e  lodgings,  intending  to  force  the  latter  to  meet  him  before  he  did 
Mr.  Graves.  He  did  not  find  him,  however,  and  immediately  proceeded  to  the 
old  dueling  ground  at  Bladensburgh,  and  thence  to  several  other  places,  to 
interpose  himself  as  the  rightful  antagonist  of  Mr.  Cilley.  Had  he  found  the 
parties,  a  more  dreadful  tragedy  still  would  doubtless  have  ensued.  But  the 
place  of  meeting  had  been  changed,  and  the  arrangements  so  secretly  made, 
that  though  Mr.  Clay  and  many  others  were  on  the  alert  to  prevent  it,  the 
duel  was  not  interrupted. 

"  We  believe  we  have  here  stated  every  material  fact  in  relation  to  this 
melancholy  business.  It  is  suggested,  however,  that  Mr.  Cilley  was  less  dis 
posed  to  concede  anything  from  the  first  in  consideration  of  his  own  course 
when  a  difficulty  recently  arose  between  two  of  his  colleagues,  Messrs.  Jarvis 
and  Smith,  which  elicited  a  challenge  from  the  former,  promptly  and  nobly 
declined  by  the  latter.  This  refusal,  it  is  said,  was  loudly  and  vehemently 
stigmatized  as  cowardly  by  Mr.  Cilley.  This  circumstance  does  not  come  to 
us  well  authenticated,  but  it  is  spoken  of  as  notorious  at  Washington. 

"  But  enough  of  detail  and  circumstance.  The  reader  who  has  not  seen  the 
official  statement  will  find  its  substance  in  the  foregoing.  He  can  lay  the 
blame  where  he  chooses.  We  blame  only  the  accursed  spirit  of  False  Honor 
which  required  this  bloody  sacrifice — the  horrid  custom  of  Dueling  which  ex 
acts  and  palliates  this  atrocity.  It  appears  evident  that  Mr.  Cilley's  course 
must  have  been  baaed  on  the  determination  that  Col.  Webb  was  no'  entitled 


THE    EDITOR    OVERWORKED.  179 

lo  be  regarded  as  a  gentleman  ;  and  if  so,  there  was  hardly  an  escape  from 
a  bloody  conclusion  after  Mr.  Graves  had  once  consented,  however  uncon 
sciously,  to  bear  the  note  of  Col.  Webb.  Each  of  the  parties,  doubtless,  acted 
as  he  considered  due  to  his  own  character ;  each  was  right  in  the  view  of  the 
duelist's  code  of  honor,  but  fearfully  wrong  in  the  eye  of  reason,  of  morality, 
of  humanity,  and  the  imperative  laws  of  man  and  of  God.  Of  the  principals, 
one  sleeps  cold  and  stiff  bsneath  the  icy  pall  of  winter  and  the  clods  of  the 
valley ;  the  other — far  more  to  be  pitied — lives  to  execrate  through  years  of 
anguish  and  remorse  the  hour  when  he  was  impelled  to  imbrue  his  hands  in 
the  blood  of  a  fellow-being. 

Mr.  Graves  we  know  personally,  and  a  milder  and  more  amiable  gentleman 
is  rarely  to  be  met  with.  He  has  for  the  last  two  years  been  a  Representative 
from  the  Louisville  District,  Kentucky,  and  is  universally  esteemed  and  be 
loved.  Mr.  Cilley  was  a  young  man  of  one  of  the  best  families  in  New  Hamp 
shire  ;  his  grandfather  was  a  Colonel  and  afterwards  a  General  of  the  Revo- 
lutkm.  Hie  brother  was  a  Captain  in  the  last  War  with  Great  Britain,  and 
leader  of  the  desperate  bayonet  charge  at  Bridgewater.  Mr.  Cilley  himself, 
though  quite  a  youug  man,  has  been  for  two  years  Speaker  of  the  House  of 
Representatives  of  Maine,  and  was  last  year  elected  to  Congress  from  the 
Lincoln  Pistrict.  which  is  decidedly  opposed  to  him  in  politics,  and  which 
recently  gave  1,200  majority  for  the  other  side.  Young  as  he  was,  he  had  ac 
quired  a  wide  popularity  and  influence  in  his  own  State,  and  was  laying  the 
foundations  of  a  brilliant  career  in  the  National  Councils.  And  this  man,  with 
so  maoy  ties  to  bind  him  to  life,  with  the  sky  of  his  future  bright  with  hope, 
without  an  eeejny  on  earth,  and  with  a  wife  and  three  chi.Mreu  of  tccder  age 
whom  bis  death  must  drive  to  the  verge  of  madness—has  perished  miserably 
in  a  combat  forbidden  by  God,  growing  out  of  a  difference  so  pitiful  in  itself, 
so  direful  in  its  consequences. 

Could  we  add  anything  to  render  the  moral  more  terribly  impressive  7 

The  year  of  the  Jeffersonian  was  a  most  laborious  and  harassing 
:>ne.  No  one  bat  a  Greeley  would  or  could  have  endured  such  con 
tinuous  End  distracting  toils.  He  had  two  papers  to  provide  for ; 
papers  diverse  in  character,  papers  published  a  hundred  and  fifty 
riiles  apart,  papers  to  which  e.3fpect^ant  thousands  looked  for  their 
weekly  supply  of  mental  pabulum.  As  soon  as  the  Agony  of  getting 
the  New  Yorker  to  press  was  over,  and  copy  for  the  outride  of  the 
next  number  given  out,  away  rushed  the  editor  to  the  Albany  boat ; 
and  after  a  night  of  battle  with  the  bed-bugs  of  the  cabin,  or  the 
politicians  of  the  hurricane-de.ck,  he  hurried  off  to  new  duties  at  the 
office  of  the  Jeffersonian.  The  Albany  boat  of  1838  was  a  very 
different  style  of  conveyance  from  the  Albany  boat  of  the  present 


180  THE   LOG   CABIN. 

year  of  onr  Ix^rd.  It  was,  in  fact,  not  much  more  than  six  times  as 
elegant  and  comfortable  as  the  steamers  that,  at  this  hour,  ply  in 
the  seas  and  channels  of  Europe.  The  sufferings  of  our  hero  may 
be  imagined. 

But,  not  his  labors.  They  can  be  understood  only  by  those  who 
know,  by  blessed  experience,  what  it  is  to  get  up,  or  try  to  get  up, 
a  good,  correct,  timely,  and  entertaining  weekly  paper.  The  sub 
ject  of  editorial  labor,  however,  must  be  reserved  for  a  future  page. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE    LOG-CABIN. 
"TUTPECANOE  AND  TYLER  TOO." 

Wire-pulling— The  delirium  of  1840— The  Log-Cabin— Unprecedented  hit— A  glance  at 
its  pages— Log-Cabin  jokes— Log-Cabin  songs— Horace  Greeley  and  the  cake-bas 
ket— Pecuniary  difficulties  continue— The  Tribune  announced. 

WIKE-PULLING  is  a  sneaking,  bad,  demoralizing  business,  and  the 
people  hate  it.  The  campaign  of  1840,  which -resulted  in  the  elec 
tion  of  General  Harrison  to  the  presidency,  was,  at  bottom,  the 
revolt  of  the  people  of  the  United  States  against  the  wire-pulling 
principle,  supposed  to  be  incarnate  in  the  person  of  Martin  Van 
Buren.  Other  elements  entered  into  the  delirium  of  those  mad 
months.  The  country  was  only  recovering,  and  that  slowly,  from 
the  disasters  of  1836  and  1837,  and  the  times  were  still  lhard.' 
But  the  fire  and  fury  of  the  struggle  arose  from  the  fact,  that  Gen 
eral  Harrison,  a  man  who  had  done  something,  was  pitted  against 
Martin  Van  Buren,  a  man  who  had  pulled  wires.  The  hero  of  Tip- 
pecanoe  and  the  farmer  of  North  Bend,  against  the  wily  diplomatist 
who  partook  of  sustenance  by  the  aid  of  gold  spoons.  The  Log- 
Cabin  against  the  White  House. 

Great  have  been  the  triumphs  of  wire-pulling  in  this  and  other 
countries;  and  yet  it  is  an  unsafe  tLing  to  engage  in.  As  bluff 
King  Hal  melted  away,  with  one  fiery  glance,  all  the  greatness  of 


UNPRECEDENTED   HIT.  181 

"Wolsey ;  as  the  elephant,  with  a  tap  of  his  trunk,  knocks  the  hreath 
out  of  the  little  tyrant  whom  he  had  been  long  accustomed  implicitly 
to  obe}7, — so  do  the  People,  in  some  quite  unexpected  moment,  blow 
away,  with  one  breath,  the  elaborate  and  deep-laid  schemes  of  the 
republican  wire-puller;  and  him!  They  have  done  it,  O  wire-pul 
ler  !  and  will  do  it  again. 

Who  can  have  forgotten  that  campaign  of  1840?  The  'mass 
meetings,'  the  log-cabin  raisings,  the  '  hard  cider'  drinking,  the  song 
singing,  the  Tippecanoe  clubs,  the  caricatures,  the  epigrams,  the 
jokes,  the  universal  excitement !  General  Harrison  was  sung  into 
the  presidential  chair.  Yan  Buren  was  laughed  out  of  it.  Every 
town  had  its  log-cabin,  its  club,  and  its  chorus.  Tippecanoe  song- 
books  were  sold  by  the  hundred  thousand.  There  were  Tippecanoe 
medals,  Tippecanoe  badges,  Tippecanoe  flags,  Tippecanoe  handker 
chiefs,  Tippecanoe  almanacs,  and  Tippecauoe  shaving-soap.  All 
other  interests  were  swallowed  up  in  the  one  interest  of  the  eleo- 
tion.  All  noises  were  drowned  in  the  cry  of  Tippecanoe  and  Tylor 
too. 

The  man  who  contributed  most  to  keep  alive  and  increase  the 
popular  enthusiasm,  the  man  who  did  most  to  feed  that  enthusiasm 
with  the  substantial  fuel  of  fact  and  argument,  was,  beyond  all  ques 
tion,  Horace  Greeley. 

On  the  second  of  May,  the  first  number  of  the  LOG-CABIN  ap 
peared,  by  *  H.  Greeley  &  Co.,'  a  weekly  paper,  to  be  published 
simultaneously  at  New  York  and  Albany,  at  fifty  cents  for  the  cam 
paign  of  six  months.  It  was  a  small  paper,  about  half  the  size  of 
the  present  Tribune ;  but  it  was  conducted  with  wonderful  spirit, 
and  made  an  unprecedented  hit.  Of  the  first  number,  an  edition  of 
twenty  thousand  was  printed,  which  Mr.  Greeley's  friends  thought  a  far 
greater  number  than  would  be  sold ;  but  the  edition  vanished  from  the 
counter  in  a  day.  Eight  thousand  more  were  struck  off;  they  were 
sold  in  a  morning.  Four  thousand  more  were  printed,  and  still  the 
demand  seemed  unabated.  A  further  supply  of  six  thousand  was 
printed,  and  the  types  were  then  distributed.  In  a  few  days,  how 
ever,  the  demand  became  so  urgent,  that  the  number  was  re-set,  and 
an  edition  of  ten  thousand  struck  off.  Altogether,  forty-eight  thou 
sand  of  the  first  number  were  sold.  Subscribers  came  pouring  in 
at  the  rate  of  seven  hundred  a  day.  The  list  lenarr.hened  in  a  fow 


182  THE   LOO   CABIN. 

weeks  to  sixty  thousand  names,  and  kept  increasing  till  the  weekly 
issue  was  between  eighty  and  ninety  thousand.  '  H.  Greeley  and 
Co.'  were  really  overwhelmed  with  their  success.  They  had  made 
no  preparations  for  such  an  enormous  increase  of  business,  and  they 
were  troubled  to  hire  clerks  and  folders  fast  enough  to  get  their 
stupendous  edition  into  the  mails. 

The  Log  Cabin  is  not  dull  reading,  even  now,  after  the  lapse  of 
fifteen  years ;  and  though  the  men  and  the  questions  of  that  day 
are,  most  of  them,  dead.  But  then,  it  was  devoured  with  an  eager 
ness,  which  even  those  who  remember  it  can  hardly  realize.  Let 
us  glance  hastily  over  its  pages. 

The  editor  explained  the  *  objects  and  scope'  of  the  little  paper, 
thus : — 

44  The  Log  Cabin  will  be  a  zealous  and  unwavering  advocate  of 
the  rights,  interests  and  prosperity  of  our  whole  country,  but  es 
pecially  those  of  the  hardy  subduers  and  cultivators  of  her  soil.  It 
will  be  the  advocate  of  the  cause  of  the  Log  Cabin  against  that  of 
the  Custom  House  and  Presidential  Palace.  It  will  be  an  advocate 
of  the  interests  of  unassuming  industry  against  the  schemes  and 
devices  of  functionaries  *  drest  in  a  little  brief  authority,'  whose 
salaries  are  trebled  in  value  whenever  Labor  is  forced  to  beg  for  em 
ployment  at  three  or  four  shillings  a  day.  It  will  be  the  advocate  of 
a  sound,  uniform,  adequate  Currency  for  our  whole  country,  against 
the  visionary  projects  and  ruinous  experiments  of  the  official  Dous- 
terswivels  of  the  day,  who  commenced  by  promising  Prosperity, 
Abundance,  and  Plenty  of  Gold  as  the  sure  result  of  their  policy; 
and  lol  we  have  its  issues  in  disorganization,  bankruptcy,  low- 
wages  and  treasury  rags.  In  fine,  it  will  be  the  advocate  of  Free 
dom,  Improvement,  and  of  National  Reform,  by  the  election  of 
Harrison  and  Tyler,  the  restoration  of  purity  to  the  government,  of 
efficiency  to  the  public  will,  and  of  Better  Times  to  tho  People. 
Such  are  the  objects  and  scope  of  the  Log  Cabin." 

The  contents  of  the  Log  Cabin  were  of  various  kinds.  The  first 
page  was  devoted  to  Literature  of  an  exclusively  Tippecanoe  charac 
ter,  such  as  4<  Sketch  of  Gen.  Harrison,"  "  Anecdote  of  Gen.  Har 
rison,"  "  General  Harrison's  Creed."  "  Slanders  on  Gen.  Harrison  re 
futed,"  "  Meeting  of  the  Old  Soldiers,"  &c.  The  first  number  had 
twenty -eight  articles  and  paragraphs  of  this  description.  The  f»ec- 


A   GLANCE    AT   ITS   PAGES.  183 

and  page  contained  editorials  and  correspondence.  The  third  was 
where  the  "  Splendid  Victories,"  and  "  Unprecedented  Triumphs," 
were  recorded.  The  fourth  page  contained  a  Tippecanoe  song  with 
music,  and  a  few  articles  of  a  miscellaneous  character.  Dr.  Chan- 
ning's  lectuie  upon  the  Elevation  of  the  Laboring  Classes  ran 
through  several  of  the  early  numbers.  Most  of  the  numbers  con 
tain  an  engraving  or  two,  plans  of  General  Harrison's  battles,  por 
traits  of  the  candidates,  or  a  caricature.  One  of  the  caricatures 
represented  Van  Buren  caught  in  a  trap,  and  over  the  picture  was 
the  following  explanation: —"The  New  Era  has  prepared  and 
pictured  a  Log  Cabin  Trap,  representing  a  Log  Cabin — set  as  a 
figure-4-trap,  and  baited  with  a  barrel  of  hard  cider.  By  the  follow 
ing  it  will  be  seen  that  the  trap  has  been  SPRUNG,  and  a  sly  nibbler 
from  Kinderhook  is  looking  out  through  the  gratings.  Old  Hickory 
is  intent  on  prying  him  out;  but  it  is  manifestly  no  go."  The 
editorials  of  the  Log  Cabin  were  mostly  of  a  serious  and  argument 
ative  cast,  upon  the  Tariff,  the  Currency,  and  the  Hard  Times. 
They  were  able  and  timely.  The  spirit  of  the  campaign,  however, 
is  contained  in  the  other  departments  of  the  paper,  from  which  a 
few  brief  extracts  may  amuse  the  reader  for  a  moment,  as  well  as 
illustrate  the  feeling  of  the  time. 

The  Log  Cabins  that  were  built  all  over  the  country,  were 
'raised 'and  inaugurated  with  a  great  show  of  rejoicing.  In  one 
number  of  the  paper,  there  are  accounts  of  as  many  as  six  of  these 
hilarious  ceremonials,  with  their  speechify  ings  and  hard-cider  drink- 
ings.  The  humorous  paragraph  annexed  appears  in  an  early  num 
ber,  under  the  title  of  "  Thrilling  Log  Cabin  Incident :" — 

11  The  whigs  of  Erie,  Pa.,  raised  a  Log  Cabin  last  week  from  which  the  ban 
ner  of  Harrison  and  Reform  was  displayed.  While  engaged  in  the  dedica 
tion  of  their  Cabin,  the  whigs  received  information  which  led  them  to  appre 
hend  a  hostile  demonstration  from  Harbor  Creek,  a  portion  of  the  borough 
whose  citizens  had  ever  been  strong  Jackson  and  Van  Buren  men.  Soon  after 
wards  a  party  >f  horsemen,  about  forty  in  number,  dressed  in  Indian  costume, 
armed  with  t«mahawks  and  scalping  knives,  approached  the  Cabin!  The 
whigs  made  prompt  preparations  to  defend  their  banner.  The  scene  became  in 
tensely  exciting.  The  assailants  rode  up  to  the  Cabin,  dismounted,  and  surren 
dered  themselves  up  as  voluntary  prisoners  of  war.  On  inquiry,  they  proved  t« 
be  stanch  Jackson  men  from  Ha-bor  Creek,  who  had  taken  that  or  ode  of  array- 


184  THE   LOG   CABIN. 

ing  themselves  under  the  HARRISON  BANNER  !  The  tomahank  was  then  bur 
led ;  after  which  the  string  of  the  latch  was  pushed  out,  and  the  Harbor-Creek 
ers  were  ushered  into  the  Cabin,  where  they  pledged  their  support  to  Harri 
son  in  a  bumper  of  good  old  hard  cider." 

The  great  joker  of  that  election,  as  of  every  other  since,  was  Mr. 
Prentice^  of  the  Louisville  Journal,  the  wittiest  of  editors,  living  or 
dead.  Many  of  his  good  things  appear  in  the  Log  Cabin,  but  most 
of  them  allude  to  men  and  events  that  have  been  forgotten,  and  the 
point  of  the  joke  is  lost.  The  following  are  three  of  the  Log  Cab 
in  jokes  ;  they  sparkled  in  1840,  flat  as  they  may  seem  now : — 

"  The  Globe  says  that  '  there  are  but  two  parties  in  the  country,  the  poor 
man's  party  and  the  rich  man's  party,'  and  that  '  Mr.  Van  Puren  is  the  friend 
of  the  former.'  The  President  is  certainly  in  favor  of  strengthening  the  poor 
man's  party,  numerically  !  He  goes  for  impoverishing  the  whole  country — 
except  the  office-holders." 

"  What  do  the  locofocos  expect  by  vilifying  the  Log  Cabin  ?  Do  they  not 
know  that  a  Log  Cabin  is  all  the  better  for  being  daubed  with  mud  ?" 

"  A  whig  passing  through  the  streets  of  Boston  a  few  mornings  ago,  espied 
a  custom-house  officer  gazing  ruefully  at  a  bulletin  displaying  the  latest  news 

of  the  Maine  election.      '  Ah!  Mr. ,  taking  your  bitters  this  morning, 

I  see.'      The  way  the  loco  scratched  gravel  was  a  pattern  for  sub-treasurers." 

One  specimen  paragraph  from  the  department  of  political  news 
will  suffice  to  show  the  frenzy  of  those  who  wrote  for  it.  A  letter- 
writer  at  Utica,  describing  a  *  mass  meeting '  in  that  city,  bursts  up 
on  his  readers  in  this  style : 

"  This  has  been  the  proudest,  brightest  day  of  my  life  !  Never — no,  never, 
have  I  before  seen  the  people  in  their  majesty !  Never  were  the  foundations 
of  popular  sentiment  so  broken  up  !  The  scene  from  early  dawn  to  sunset, 
has  been  one  of  continued,  increasing,  bewildering  enthusiasm.  The  hearts  of 
TWENTY-FIVK  THOUSAND  FREEMEN  have  been  overflowing  with  gratitude,  and 
gladness,  and  joy.  It  has  been  a  day  of  jubilee — an  ERA  OF  DELIVERANCE 
FOR  CENTRAL  NEW  YORK  !  The  people  in  waves  have  poured  in  from  the  val 
leys  and  rushed  down  from  the  mountains.  The  city  has  been  vocal  with  elo 
quence,  with  music,  and  with  acclamations.  Demonstrations  of  strength,  and  em 
blems  of  victory,  and  harbingers  of  prosperity  are  all  around  us,  cheering  and 
animating,  and  assuring  a  people  who  are  finally  and  effectually  aroused.  I  wiy 
not  now  attempt  to  describe  the  procession  of  the  people.  Suffice  it  to  say  that 


LOG    CABIN    SONGS.  185 


there  was  an  ocean  of  thorn  !  The  procession  was  over  m  E  MILES  LONO.  * 
*  *  Governor  Seward  and  Lieut.  Gov.  Bradish  were  unanimously  nomina 
ted  by  resolution  for  re-election.  The  result  was  communicated  to  the  people 
assembled  in  MASS  in  Chancery  Square,  whose  response  to  the  nomination  was 
spontaneous,  loud,  deep  and  resounding." 

The  profusion  of  the  presidential  mansion  was  one  of  the  stand 
ing  topics  of  those  who  wished  to  eject  its  occupant.  In  one  num 
ber  of  the  Log-Cabin  is  a  speech,  delivered  in  the  House  of  Repre 
sentatives  by  a  member  of  the  opposition,  in  which  the  bills  of  the 
persons  who  supplied  the  White  House  are  given  at  length.  Take 
these  specimens  : 

34  table  knives  ground,          .        .        .        .        .        .        .        $l,37j 

2  new  knife  blades,  .  ......         75 

2  cook's  knife  blades,  .......         2,50 


2  dozen  brooms,        .        .        .        .        .        .        .        .  $3,75 

1-2  do.    hard  scrubs,  .......  2,37 

1-2  do.    brooms,       .........       1,38 

6,50 

2  tin  buckets,        .........        $2,00 

Milk  strainer  and  skimmer,     .......        92£ 

Chamber  bucket  .........          2,00 

2  dozen  tart  pans,  ......        .        .       2,50 

" 


This  seems  like  putting  an  extremely  fine  point  upon  a  political  ar 
gument.  What  the  orator  wished  to  show,  however,  was,  that  suck 
articles  as  the  above  ought  to  be  paid  for  out  of  the  presidential 
salary,  not  the  public  treasury.  The  speech  exhibited  some  columns 
of  these  4  house-bills.'  It  made  a  great  sensation,  and  was  enough 
to  cure  any  decent  man  of  a  desire  to  become  a  serrant  of  the 
people. 

But,  as  I  have  observed,  Gen.  Harrison  was  sung  into  the  presi 
dential  chair.  The  Log  Cabin  preserves  a  large  number  of  the  politi 
cal  ditties  of  the  time  ;  the  editor  himself  contributing  two.  A  very 
few  stanzas  will  suffice  to  show  the  quality  of  the  Tippecanoe  poetry 
The  following  is  one  from  the  *  Wolverine's  Song': 


186  THE   LOG    CABIN. 

We  know  that  Van  Buren  can  ride  in  his  coach, 
With  servants,  forbidding  the  Vulgar's  approach — 
We  know  that  his  fortune  such  things  will  allow, 
And  we  know  that  our  candidate  follows  the  plough  ; 
But  what  if  he  does  1     Who  was  bolder  to  fight 
In  his  country's  defense  on  that  perilous  night, 
When  naught  save  his  valor  sufficed  to  subdue 
Our  foes  at  the  battle  of  Tippecanoe  ? 

Hurrah  for  Tippecanoe  ! 
He  dropped  the  red  Locos  at  Tippecanoe ! 

From  the  song  of  the  '  Buckeye  Cabin,'  these  are  two  stanzas : 

Oh !  where,  tell  me  where,  was  your  Buckeye  Cabin  made  1 
Oh  !  where,  tell  me  where,  was  your  Buckeye  Cabin  made  ? 
'Twas  made  among  the  merry  boys  that  wield  the  plough  and  spade 
Where  the  Log  Cabins  stand  in  the  bonnie  Buckeye  shade. 

Oh  !  what,  tell  me  what,  is  to  be  your  Cabin's  fate  ? 
Oh !  what,  tell  me  what,  is  to  be  your  Cabin's  fate  1 
We  '11  wheel  it  to  the  Capitol  and  place  it  there  elate, 
For  a  token  and  a  sign  of  the  bonnie  Buckeye  State. 

The  l  Turn  Out  Song '  was  very  popular,  and  easy  to  sing : 

From  the  White  House,  now  Matty,  turn  out,  turn  out, 
From  the  White  House,  now  Matty,  turn  out ! 

Since  there  you  have  been 

No  peace  we  have  seen, 
So  Matty,  now  please  to  turn  out,  turn  out, 
So  Matty,  now  please  to  turn  out ! 
****#** 
Make  way  for  old  Tip !  turn  out,  turn  out ! 
Make  way  for  old  Tip,  turn  out ! 

'Tis  the  people's  decree, 

Their  choice  he  shall  be, 
So,  Martin  Van  Buren,  turn  out,  turn  out, 
So,  Martin  Van  Buren,  turn  out! 

But  of  all  the  songs  ever  sung,  the  most  absurd  and  the  most  tell 
ing,  was  that  which  began  thus 


LOG   CABIN    SONGS.  187 

What  has  cau*ed  this  great  commotion-motion-motion 

Our  country  through  1 
It  is  the  ball  a-rolling  on 
For  Tippecanoe  and  Tyler  too, 
For  Tippecanoe  and  Tyler  too ; 
And  with  them  we  '11  beat  little  Van ; 
Van,  Van,  Van  is  a  used-up  man, 
And  with  them  we  '11  beat  little  Van. 

This  song  had  two  advantages.  The  tune — half  chant,  half 
jig — was  adapted  to  bring  out  all  the  absurdities  of  the  words,  and, 
in  particular,  those  of  the  last  two  lines.  The  second  advantage 
was,  that  stanzas  could  be  multiplied  to  any  extent,  on  the  spot,  to 
suit  the  exigences  of  any  occasion.  For  example : 

"  The  beautiful  girls,  God  bless  their  souls,  souls,  souls, 

The  country  through, 
Will  all,  to  a  man,  do  all  they  can 
For  Tippecanoe  and  Tyler  too ; 
And  with  them,"  etc.,  etc. 

During  that  summer,  ladies  attended  the  mass  meetings  in  thou 
sands,  and  in  their  honor  the  lines  just  quoted  were  frequently  sung. 

These  few  extracts  from  the  Log  Cabin  show  the  nature  of  the 
element  in  which  our  editor  was  called  upon  to  work  in  the  hot 
months  of  1840.  His  own  interest  in  the  questions  at  issue  was  in 
tense,  and  his  labors  were  incessant  and  most  arduous.  He  wrote 
articles,  he  made  speeches,  he  sat  on  committees,  he  traveled, 
he  gave  advice,  he  suggested  plans;  while  he  had  two  news 
papers  on  his  hands,  and  a  load  of  debt  upon  his  shoulders.  His 
was  a  willing  servitude.  From  the  days  of  his  apprenticeship  he 
had  observed  the  course  of  '  Democratic'  administrations  with  dis 
gust  and  utter  disapproval,  and  he  had  borne  his  full  share  of  the 
consequences  of  their  bad  measures.  His  whole  soul  was  in  this 
contest.  He  fought  fairly  too.  His  answer  to  a  correspondent,  that 
1  articles  assailing  the  personal  character  of  Mr.  Van  Buren  or  any 
of  his  supporters  cannot  be  published  in  the  Cabin,'  was  in  advance 
of  the  politics  of  1840. 

One  scene,  if  it  could  be  portrayed  on  the  printed  page  as  visibly 
as  it  exists  in  the  momories  of  those  who  witnessed  it,  would  show 


188  THE    J.OG    CABIN. 

better  than  declaratory  words,  how  absorbed  Mr.  Greeley  was  in 
politics  during  this  famous  'campaign.'  It  is  a  funny  story,  and 
literally  true. 

Time, — Sunday  evening.  Scene, — the  parlor  of  a  friend's  house. 
Company, — numerous  and  political,  except  the  ladies,  who  are 
gracious  and  hospitable.  Mr.  Greeley  is  expected  to  tea,  but  does 
not  come,  and  the  meai  is  transacted  without  him.  Tea  over,  he 
arrives,  and  plunges  headlong  into  a  conversation  on  the  currency. 
The  lady  of  the  house  thinks  he  *  had  better  take  some  tea,'  but 
cannot  get  a  hearing  on  the  subject ;  is  distressed,  puts  the  question 
at  length,  and  has  her  invitation  hurriedly  declined ;  brushed  aside, 
in  fact,  with  a  wave  of  the  hand. 

"  Take  a  cruller,  any  way,"  said  she,  handing  him  a  cake-basket 
containing  a  dozen  or  so  of  those  unspeakable,  Dutch  indigestibles. 

The  expounder  of  the  currency,  dimly  conscious  that  a  large  ob 
ject  was  approaching  him,  puts  forth  his  hands,  still  vehemently 
talking,  and  takes,  not  a  cruller,  but  the  cake-basket,  and  deposits 
it  in  his  lap.  The  company  are  inwardly  convulsed,  and  some  of 
the  weaker  members  retire  to  the  adjoining  apartment,  the  ex 
pounder  continuing  his  harangue,  unconscious  of  their  emotions  or 
its  cause.  Minutes  elapse.  His  hands,  in  their  wandering  through 
the  air,  come  in  contact  with  the  topmost  cake,  which  they  take 
and  break.  He  begins  to  eat ;  and  eats  and  talks,  talks  and  eats, 
till  lie  has  finished  a  cruller.  Then  he  feels  for  another,  and  eats 
that,  and  goes  on,  slowly  consuming  the  contents  of  the  basket,  till 
the  last  cruin  is  gone.  The  company  look  on  amazed,  and  the  kind 
lady  of  the  house  fears  for  the  consequences.  She  had  heard  that 
cheese  is  an  antidote  to  indigestion.  Taking  the  empty  cake- 
basket  from  his  lap,  she  silently  puts  a  plate  of  cheese  in  its  place, 
hoping  that  instinct  will  guide  his  hand  aright.  The  experiment 
succeeds.  Gradually,  the  blocks  of  white  new  cheese  disappear. 
She  removes  the  plate.  No  ill  consequences  follow.  Those  who 
saw  this  sight  are  fixed  in  the  belief,  that  Mr.  Greeley  was  not 
then,  nor  has  since  become,  aware,  that  on  that  evening  he  par 
took  of  sustenance. 

The  reader,  perhaps,  has  concluded  that  the  prodigious  sale  of 
the  Log  Cabin  did  something  to  relieve  our  hero  from  his  pecuniary 
embarrassments.  Such  was  not  the  fact  He  paid  some  debts, 


THE    CAKE-BASKET.  18 

•wit  he  incurred  others,  and  was  not,  for  any  week,  free  from 
anxiety.  The  price  of  the  paper  was  low,  and  its  unlooked-for  sale 
involved  the  proprietors  in  expenses  which  might  have  been  avoid 
ed,  or  much  lessened,  if  they  had  been  prepared  for  it.  The  mail 
ing  of  single  numbers  cost  a  hundred  dollars.  The  last  number  of 
the  campaign  series,  the  great  "  O  K"  number,  the  number  that 
was  all  staring  with  majorities,  and  capital  letters,  and  points  of 
admiration,  the  number  that  announced  the  certain  triumph  of  the 
Whigs,  and  carried  joy  into  a  thousand  Log  Cabins,  contained  a 
most  moving  "Appeal"  to  the  "Friends  who  owe  us."  It  was  in 
small  type,  and  in  a  corner  remote  from  the  victorious  columns.  It 
ran  thus : — "  We  were  induced  in  a  few  instances  to  depart  from 
our  general  rule,  and  forward  the  first  series  of  the  Log  Cabin 
on  credit — having  in  almost  every  instance  a  promise,  that  the 
money  should  be  sent  us  before  the  first  of  November.  That 
time  has  passed,  and  we  regret  to  say,  that  many  of  those  prom 
ises  have  not  been  fulfilled.  To  those  who  owe  us,  therefore,  we 
are  compelled  to  say,  Friends!  we  need  our  money — our  paper- 
maker  needs  it !  and  has  a  right  to  ask  us  for  it.  The  low  price 
at  which  we  have  published  it,  forbids  the  idea  of  gain  from  this 
paper :  we  only  ask  the  means  of  paying  what  we  owe.  Once  for 
all,  we  implore  you  to  do  us  justice,  and  enable  us  to  do  the 
same."  This  tells  the  whole  story.  Not  a  word  need  be  added. 

The  Log  Cabin  was  designed  only  for  the  campaign,  and  it  was 
expected  to  expire  with  the  twenty-seventh  number.  The  zealous 
editor,  however,  desirous  of  presenting  the  complete  returns  of  the 
victory,  issued  an  extra  number,  and  sent  it  gratuitously  to  all  his 
subscribers.  This  number  announced,  also,  that  the  Log  Cabin 
would  be  resumed  in  a  few  weeks.  On  the  fifth  of  December  the 
new  series  began,  as  a  family  political  paper,  and  continued,  with 
moderate  success,  till  both  it  and  the  New  Yorker  were  merged  in 
the  Tribune. 

For  his  services  in  the  campaign — and  no  man  contributed  as 
much  to  its  success  as  he— Horace  Greeley  accepted  no  office ; 
nor  did  he  even  witness  the  inauguration.  This  is  not  strange. 
But  it  is  somewhat  surprising  that  the  incoming  administration  had 
not  the  decency  to  offer  him  something.  Mr.  Fry  (W.  H.)  made  a 
speech  one  evening  at  a  political  meeting  in  Philadelphia.  Th« 


J90  THE   LOG   CABIN. 

next  morning,  a  committee  waited  upon  him  to  k  low  i  jr  what  of 
fice  he  intended  to  become  an  applicant  "  Office  ?"  said  the  aston 
ished  composer — "  No  office."  "  Why.  then,"  said  the  committee, 
u  what  the  h — II  did  you  speak  last  night  for  fn  Mr.  Greeley  had 
not  even  the  honor  of  a  visit  from  a  committee  of  this  kind. 

The  Log  Cabin,  however,  gave  him  an  immense  reputation  in  all 
parts  of  the  country,  as  an  able  writer  and  a  zealous  politician — a 
reputation  which  soon  became  more  valuable  to  him  than  pecuniary 
capital.  The  Log  Cabin  of  April  3d  contained  the  intelligence  of 
General  Harrison's  death ;  and,  among  a  few  others,  the  following 
advertisement : 

"NEW   YORK   TRIBUNE. 

"  On  Saturday,  the  tenth  day  of  April  instant,  the  Subscriber  will  publish 
the  first  number  of  a  New  Morning  Journal  of  Politics,  Literature,  and  Gen 
eral  Intelligence. 

"  The  TRIBUNE,  as  its  name  imports,  will  labor  to  advance  the  interests  of 
the  People,  and  to  promote  their  Moral,  Social,  and  Political  well-being.  The 
immoral  and  degrading  Police  Reports,  Advertisements  and  other  matter  which 
have  been  allowed  to  disgrace  the  columns  of  our  leading  Penny  Papers,  will 
be  carefully  excluded  from  this,  and  no  exertion  spared  to  render  it  worthy  of 
the  hearty  approval  of  the  virtuous  and  refined,  and  a  welcome  visitant  at  the 
family  fireside. 

"  Earnestly  believing  that  the  political  revolution  which  has  called  William 
Henry  Harrison  to  the  Chief  Magistracy  of  the  Nation  was  a  triumph  of 
Right  Reason  and  Public  Good  over  Error  and  Sinister  Ambition,  the  Tribune 
will  give  to  the  New  Administration  a  frank  and  cordial,  but  manly  and  iude 
pendent  support,  judging  it  always  by  its  acts,  and  commending  those  only 
so  far  as  they  shall  seem  calculated  to  subserve  the  great  end  of  all  govern 
ment — the  welfare  of  the  People. 

"  The  Tribune  will  be  published  every  morning  on  a  fair  royal  sheet — (size 
of  the  Log-Cabin  and  Evening  Signal) — and  transmitted  to  its  city  subscribers 
at  the  low  price  of  one  cent  per  copy.  Mail  subscribers,  $4  per  annum.  It 
will  contain  the  news  by  the  morning's  Southern  Mail,  which  is  contained  in  no 
other  Penny  Paper.  Subscriptions  are  respectfully  solicited  by 

HORACE  GREELEY,  30  ANN  ST. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

STARTS  THE  TRIBUNE. 

Die  Capital— The  Daily  Press  of  New  York  in  1841— The  Tribune  appears— The  Omeiw 
unpropitious — The  first  week — Conspiracy  to  put  down  the  Tribune — The  Tribund 
triumphs— Thomas  McElrath— The  Tribune  alive— Industry  of  the  Editors— Their 
independence— Horace  Greeley  and  John  Tyler— The  Tribune  a  Fixed  Fact. 

WHO  furnished  the  capital?  Horace  Greeley.  But  he  wa» 
scarcely  solvent  on  the  day  of  the  Tribune's  appearance.  True; 
and  yet  it  is  no  less  the  fact  that  nearly  all  the  large  capital  required 
for  the  enterprise  was  supplied  by  him. 

A  large  capital  is  indispensable  for  the  establishment  of  a  good 
daily  paper ;  but  it  need  not  be  a  capital  of  money.  It  may  be  a 
capital  of  reputation,  credit,  experience,  talent,  opportunity.  Horace 
Greeley  was  trusted  and  admired  by  his  party,  and  by  many  of  the 
party  to  which  he  was  opposed.  In  his  own  circle,  lie  was  known 
to  be  a  man  of  incorruptible  integrity — one  who  would  pay  his 
debts  at  any  and  at  every  sacrifice — one  who  was  quite  incapable  of 
contracting  an  obligation  which  he  was  not  confident  of  being  able 
to  discharge.  In  other  words,  his  credit  was  good.  He  had  talent 
and  experience.  Add  to  these  a  thousand  dollars  lent  him  by  a 
friend,  (James  Coggeshall,)  and  the  evident  need  there  was  of  just 
such  a  paper  as  the  Tribune  proved  to  be,  and  we  have  the  capital 
upon  which  the  Tribune  started.  All  told,  it  was  equivalent  to  a 
round  fifty  thousand  dollars. 

In  the  present  year,  1855,  there  are  two  hundred  and  three  peri 
odicals  published  in  the  city  of  New  York,  of  which  twelve  are 
daily  papers.  In  the  year  1841,  the  number  of  periodicals  was  one 
hundred,  and  the  number  of  daily  papers  twelve.  The  Courier  and 
Enquirer,  New  York  American,  Express,  and  Commercial  Adver 
tiser  were  Whig  papers,  at  ten  dollars  a  year.  The  Evening  Post 
and  Journal  of  Commerce,  at  the  same  price,  leaned  to  the  *  Demo 
cratic'  side  of  politics,  the  former  avowedly,  t,he  latter  not.  The 


192  STARTS   THE   TRIBUNE. 

Signal,  Tatler,  and  Star  were  cheap  papers,  the  first  two  neutral,  the 
latter  dubious.  The  Herald,  at  two  cents,  was— the  Herald !  The 
Sun,  a  penny  paper  of  immense  circulation,  was  affectedly  neutral, 
really  '  Democratic,'  and  very  objectionable  for  the  gross  character 
of  many  of  its  advertisements.  A  cheap  paper,  of  the  Whig  school 
of  politics,  did  not  exist.  On  the  10th  of  April,  1841,  the  Tribune 
appeared— a  paper  one-third  the  size  of  the  present  Tribune,  price 
one  cent;  office  No.  30  Ann-street;  Horace  Greeley,  editor  and 
proprietor,  assisted  in  the  department  of  literary  criticism,  the  fine 
arts,  and  general  intelligence,  by  H.  J.  Raymond.  Under  its  head 
ing,  the  new  paper  bore,  as  a  motto,  the  dying  words  of  Harrison : 

*'  I  DESIRE  YOU  TO  UNDERSTAND  THE  TRUE  PRINCIPLES  OF  THE  GOVERN 
MENT.  I  WISH  THEM  CARRIED  OUT.  I  ASK  NOTHING  MORE." 

The  omens  were  not  propitious.  The  appallingly  sudden  death 
of  General  Harrison,  the  President  of  so  many  hopes,  the  first  of 
the  Presidents  who  had  died  in  office,  had  cast  a  gloom  over  the 
whole  country,  and  a  prophetic  doubt  over  the  prospects  of  the 
Whig  party. 

The  editor  watched  the  preparation  of  his  first  number  all  night, 
nervous  and  anxious,  withdrawing  this  article  and  altering  that,  and 
never  leaving  the  form  till  he  saw  it,  complete  and  safe,  upon  the 
^yress.  The  morning  dawned  sullenly  upon  the  town.  "  The  sleety 
atmosphere,"  wrote  Mr.  Greeley,  long  after,  "  the  leaden  sky,  the 
unseasonable  wintriness,  the  general  gloom  of  that  stormy  day, 
which  witnessed  the  grand  though  mournful  pageant  whereby  our 
city  commemorated  the  blighting  of  a  nation's  hopes  in  the  most 
untimely  death  of  President  Harrison,  were  not  inaptly  miniatured 
in  his  own  prospects  and  fortunes.  Having  devoted  the  seven  pre 
ceding  years  almost  wholly  to  the  establishment  of  a  weekly  coin- 
pen  d  of  literature  and  intelligence,  (The  New  Yorker,)  wherefrom, 
though  widely  circulated  and  warmly  praised,  he  had  received  no 
other  return  than  the  experience  and  wider  acquaintance  thence 
accruing,  he  entered  upon  his  novel  and  most  precarious  enterprise, 
most  slenderly  provided  with  the  external  means  of  commanding 
gubsistence  and  success  in  its  prosecution.  With  no  partner  or  busi 
ness  associate,  with  inconsiderable  pecuniary  resources,  and  only  a 
promise  from  political  friends  of  aid  to  the  extent  of  two  thousand 
dollars,  of  which  but  one  half  was  ever  realized,  (ana  that  long 


THE   TRIBUNE   APPEARS.  193 

since  repaid,  but  the  sense  of  obligation  to  the  far  from  wealthy 
friend  who  made  the  loan  is  none  the  less  fresh  and  ardent,)  he  un 
dertook  the  enterprise — at  all  times  and  under  any  circumstances 
hazardous— of  adding  one  more  to  the  already  amply  extensive  list 
of  daily  newspapers  issued  in  this  emporium,  where  the  current 
expenses  of  such  papers,  already  appalling,  were  soon  to  be  doubled 
by  rivalry,  by  stimulated  competition,  by  the  progress  of  business, 
the  complication  of  interests,  and  especially  by  the  general  diffusion 
of  the  electric  telegraph,  and  where  at  least  nineteen  out  of  every 
twenty  attempts  to  establish  a  new  daily  have  proved  disastrous 
failures.  Manifestly,  the  prospects  of  success  ia  this  case  were  far 
from  flattering." 

The  Tribune  began  with  about  six  hundred  subscribers,  procured 
by  the  exertions  of  a  few  of  the  editor's  personal  and  political 
friends.  Five  thousand  copies  of  the  first  number  were  printed,  and 
"  we  found  some  difficulty  in  giving  them  away,"  says  Mr.  Greeley 
in  the  article  just  quoted.  The  expenses  of  the  first  week  were 
five  hundred  and  twenty-five  dollars ;  the  receipts,  ninety-two  dol 
lars.  A  sorry  prospect  for  an  editor  whose  whole  cash  capital  was 
a  thousand  dollars,  and  that  borrowed. 

But  the  Tribune  was  a  live  paper.  FIGHT  was  the  word  with  it 
from  the  start ;  FIGHT  has  been  the  word  ever  since  ;  FIGHT  is  the 
word  this  day !  If  it  had  been  let  alone,  it  would  not  have  died ;  its 
superiority  both  in  quantity  and  the  quality  of  its  matter  to  any  other 
of  the  cheap  papers  would  have  prevented  that  catastrophe ;  but  its 
progress  was  amazingly  accelerated  in  the  first  days  of  its  existence 
by  the  efforts  of  an  enemy  to  put  it  down.  That  enemy  was  the 
Sun. 

u  The  publisher  of  the  Sun,"  wrote  Park  Benjamin  in  the  Even 
ing  Signal,  u  has,  during  the  last  few  days,  got  up  a  conspiracy  to 
crush  the  New  York  Tribune.  The  Tribune  was,  from  its  incep 
tion,  very  successful,  and,  in  many  instances,  persons  in  the  habit  of 
taking  the  Sun,  stopped  that  paper — wisely  preferring  a  sheet  which 
gives  twice  the  amount  of  reading  matter,  and  always  contains 
the  latest  intelligence.  This  fact  afforded  sufficient  evidence  to 
Beach,  as  it  did  to  all  others  who  were  cognizant  of  the  circum 
stances,  that  the  Tribune  would,  before  the  lapse  of  many  weeks, 
supplant  the  Sun.  To  prevent  this,  and,  if  possible,  to  destroy  th« 

9 


J04  STARTS    THE    TRIBUNE- 

circulation  of  the  Tribune  altogether,  an  attempt  was  made  to  bribe 
the  carriers  to  give  up  their  routes ;  fortunately  this  succeeded  only 
in  the  cases  of  two  men  who  were  likewise  carriers  of  the  Snn 
In  the  next  place,  all  the  newsmen  were  threatened  with  being  de 
prived  of  the  Sun,  if,  in  any  instance,  they  were  found  selling  the 
Tribune.  But  these  efforts  were  not  enough  to  gratify  Beach,  lie 
instigated  boys  in  his  office,  or  others,  to  whip  the  boys  engaged 
in  selling  the  Tribune.  No  sooner  was  this  fact  ascertained  at  the 
yffice  of  the  Tribune,  than  young  men  were  sent  to  defend  the 
sale  of  that  paper.  They  had  not  been  on  their  station  long,  be 
fore  a  boy  from  the  Sun  office  approached  and  began  to  flog  the 
lad  with  the  Tribune ;  retributory  measures  were  instantly  resorted 
to ;  but,  before  a  just  chastisement  was  inflicted,  Beach  himself, 
and  a  man  in  his  employ,  came  out  to  sustain  their  youthful  emis 
sary.  The  whole  matter  will,  we  understand,  be  submitted  to  the 
proper  magistrates." 

The  public  took  up  the  quarrel  with  great  spirit,  and  this  was  one 
reason  of  the  Tribune's  speedy  and  striking  success.  For  three 
weeks  subscribers  poured  in  at  the  rate  of  three  hundred  a  day ! 
It  began  its  fourth  week  with  an  edition  of  six  thousand ;  its  sev 
enth  week,  with  eleven  thousand,  which  was  the  utmost  that  could 
be  printed  with  its  first  press.  The  advertisements  increased  in 
proportion.  The  first  number  contained  four  columns;  the  twelfth, 
nine  columns ;  the  hundredth,  thirteen  columns.  Triumph !  tri 
umph  !  nothing  but  triumph !  New  presses  capable  of  printing 
the  astounding  number  of  thirty-five  hundred  copies  an  hour  are 
duly  announced.  The  indulgence  of  advertisers  is  besought  *  for 
this  day  only  ;'  '  to-morrow,  their  favors  shall  appear.'  The  price 
of  advertising  was  raised  from  four  to  six  cents  a  line.  Letters  of 
approval  came  by  every  mail.  "  We  have  a  number  of  requests,1* 
said  the  Editor  in  an  early  paragraph,  u  to  blow  up  all  sorts  of 
abuses,  which  shall  be  attended  to  as  fast  as  possible."  ]n  another, 
he  returns  his  thanks  "  to  the  friends  of  this  paper  and  the  princi 
ples  it  upholds,  for  the  addition  of  over  a  thousand  substantial 
names  to  its  subscription  list  last  week."  Again  :  "  The  Sun  is  rush 
ing  rapidly  to  destruction.  It  has  lost  even  the  groveling  sngacifry, 
the  vulgar  sordid  instinct  with  which  avarice  once  gifted  it." 
Again:  "Everything  appears  to  work  well  with  us.  True,  we 


CONSPIRACY   TO   PUT   DOWN   THE   TRIBUNE.  105 

have  not  heard  (except  through  the  veracious  Sun)  from  any  gen 
tlemen  proposing  to  give  us  a  $2,500  press  ;  but  if  any  gentlemen 
Tiave  such  an  intention,  and  proceed  to  put  it  in  practice,  the  pub 
lic  may  rest  assured  that  they  will  not  be  ashamed  of  the  act,  while 
we  shall  be  most  eager  to  proclaim  it  and  acknowledge  the  kind 
ness.  But  even  though  we  wait  for  such  a  token  of  good-will  and 
oyinpathy  until  the  Sun  shall  cease  to  be  the  slimy  and  venomous 
instrument  of  loco-focoism  it  is,  Jesuitical  and  deadly  in  politics  and 
groveling  in  morals — we  shall  be  abundantly  sustained  and  cheered 
by  the  support  we  are  regularly  receiving."  Editors  wrote  in  the 
English  language  in  those  days.  Again  :  "  The  Sun  of  yesterday 
gravely  informed  its  readers  that  '  It  is  doubtful  whether  the  Land 
Bill  can  pass  the  House?  The  Tribune  of  the  same  date  contained 
the  news  of  the  passage  of  that  very  bill  I"  Triumph !  saucy  tri 
umph  !  nothing  but  triumph  ! 

One  thing  only  was  wanting  to  secure  the  Tribune's  brilliant  suc 
cess  ;  and  that  was  an  efficient  business  partner.  Just  in  the  nick 
of  time,  the  needed  and  predestined  man  appeared,  the  man  of  all 
others  for  the  duty  required.  On  Saturday  morning,  July  31st,  the 
following  notices  appeared  under  the  editorial  head  on  the  second 
page: 

The  undersigned  has  great  pleasure  in  announcing  to  his  friends  and  the 
public  that  he  has  formed  a  copartnership  with  THOMAS  MCELRATH,  and 
that  THE  TRIBUNE  will  hereafter  be  published  by  himself  and  Mr.  M.  under 
the  firm  of  GREELEY  &  McELRATH.  The  principal  Editorial  charge  of 
the  paper  will  still  rest  with  the  subscriber ;  while  the  entire  business  man 
agement  of  the  concern  henceforth  devolves  upon  his  partner.  This  arrange 
ment,  while  it  relieves  the  undersigned  from  a  large  portion  of  the  labors  and 
cares  which  have  pressed  heavily  upon  him  for  the  last  four  months,  assures 
to  the  paper  efficiency  and  strength  in  a  department  where  they  have  hitherto 
been  needed;  and  I  cannot  be  mistaken  in  the  trust  that  the  accession  to  its 
conduct  of  a  gentleman  who  has  twice  been  honored  with  their  suffrages  for 
an  important  station,  will  strengthen  THE  TRIBUNE  in  the  confidence  and 
affections  of  the  Whigs  of  New  York.  Respectfully, 

July  31st.  HORACE  GHEELEY. 

The  undersigned,  in  connecting  himself  with  the  conduct  of  a  public  jour 
nal,  invokes  a  continuance  of  that  courtesy  and  good  feeling  which  has  been 
extended  to  him  by  his  fellow-citizens.  Having  heretofore  received  evidence 
of  kindness  and  regard  from  the  conductors  of  the  Whig  press  of  this  citv 


190  STARTS   THE   TRIBUNE. 

and  rejoicing  in  the  friendship  of  most  of  them,  it  will  be  his  aim  in  his  new 
vocation  to  justify  that  kindness  and  strengthen  and  increase  those  friendships. 
His  hearty  concurrence  in  the  principles,  Political  and  Moral,  on  which  THB 
TRIBUNE  haa  thus  far  been  conducted,  has  been  a  principal  incitement  to  the 
connection  here  announced ;  and  the  statement  of  this  fact  will  preclude  the 
necessity  of  any  special  declaration  of  opinions.  With  gratitude  for  past 
favors,  9nA  an  anxious  desire  to  merit  a  continuance  of  regard,  he  remains, 
The  Public's  humble  servant,  THOMAS  McEuiATH. 

A  a'rict  disciplinarian,  a  close  calculator,  a  man  of  method  and 
order,  experienced  in  business,  Mr.  McElrath  possessed  in  an  emi 
nent  degree  the  very  qualities  in  which  the  editor  of  the  Tribune 
was  most  deficient.  Roll  Horace  Greeley  and  Thomas  McElrath 
tato  one,  and  the  result  would  be,  a  very  respectable  approximation 
to  a  Perfect  Man.  The  two,  united  in  partnership,  have  been  able 
to  produce  a  very  respectable  approximation  to  a  perfect  newspa 
per.  As  Damon  and  Pythias  are  the  types  of  perfect  friendship, 
so  may  Greeley  and  McElrath  be  of  a  perfect  partnership;  and  one 
may  say,  with  a  sigh  at  the  many  discordant  unions  the  world  pre 
sents,  Oh  1  that  every  Greeley  could  find  his  McElrath  !  and  bless 
ed  is  the  McElrath  that  finds  his  Greeley ! 

Under  Mr.  McElrath 's  direction,  order  and  efficiency  were  soon 
introduced  into  the  business  departments  of  the  Tribune  office.  It 
became,  and  has  ever  since  been,  one  of  the  best-conducted  news 
paper  establishments  in  the  world.  Early  in  the  fall,  the  New 
Yorker  and  Log  Cabin  were  merged  into  the  Weekly  Tribune,  the 
first  number  of  which  appeared  on  the  20th  of  September.  The 
concern,  thus  consolidated,  knew,  thenceforth,  nothing  but  prosper 
ity.  The  New  Yorker  had  existed  seven  years  and  a  half;  the  Log 
Cabin,  eighteen  months. 

The  Tribune,  I  repeat,  was  a  live  paper.  It  was,  also,  a  variously 
interesting  one.  Its  selections,  which  in  the  early  volumes  occupied 
several  columns  daily,  were  of  high  character.  It  gave  the  philos 
ophers  of  the  Dial  an  ample  hearing,  and  many  an  appreciating 
notice.  It  made  liberal  extracts  from  Carlyle,  Cousin,  and  others, 
whose  works  contained  the  spirit  of  the  New  Time.  The  eighth 
number  gave  fifteen  songs  from  a  new  volume  of  Thomas  Moore 
Barnaby  Rudge  was  published  entire  in  the  first  volume.  Mr.  Ray 
mond's  notices  of  new  books  were  a  conspicuous  and  interesting  fea- 


ITS   INDEPENDENCE.  197 

tare.  Still  more  so,  were  his  clear  and  able  sketches  and  reports  of 
public  lectures.  In  November,  the  Tribune  gave  a  fair  and  cour 
teous  report  of  the  Millerite  Convention.  About  the  same  time,  Mr. 
Greeley  himself  reported  the  celebrated  McLeod  trial  at  Utica, 
sending  on  from  four  to  nine  columns  a  day. 

Amazing  was  the  industry  of  the  editors.  Single  numbers  of  the 
Tribune  contained  eighty  editorial  paragraphs.  Mr.  Greeley's  aver 
age  day's  work  was  three  columns,  equal  to  fifteen  pages  of  foolscap : 
and  the  mere  writing  which  an  editor  does,  is  not  half  his  daily 
labor.  In  May,  appeared  a  series  of  articles  on  Retrenchment  and 
Reform  in  the  City  Government,  a  subject  upon  which  the  Tribune 
has  since  shed  a  considerable  number  of  barrels  of  ink.  In  the 
same  month,  it  disturbed  a  hornet's  nest  by  saying,  that  "  the  whole 
moral  atmosphere  of  the  Theater,  as  it  actually  exists  among  us,  is 
in  our  judgment  unwholesome,  and  therefore,  while  we  do  not  pro 
pose  to  war  upon  it,  we  seek  no  alliance  with  it,  and  cannot  con 
scientiously  urge  our  readers  to  visit  it,  as  would  be  expected  if 
we  were  to  solicit  and  profit  by  its  advertising  patronage." 

Down  came  all  the  hornets  of  the  press.  The  Sun  had  the  effront 
ery  to  assert,  in  reply,  that  u  most  of  the  illegitimate  births  in  New 
York  owe  their  origin  to  acquaintances  formed  at  'Evening 
Churches,'  and  that '  Class-meetings '  have  done  more  to  people  the 
House  of  Refuge  than  twenty  times  the  number  of  theaters."  This 
discussion  might  have  been  turned  to  great  advantage  by  the 
Tribune,  if  it  had  not,  with  obstinate  honesty,  given  the  re 
ligious  world  a  rebuff  by  asserting  its  right  to  advertise  heretical 
books. 

"  As  to  our  friend,"  said  the  Tribune,  "  who  complains  of  the 
advertising  of  certain  Theological  works  which  do  not  square  with 
his  opinions,  we  must  tell  him  plainly  that  he  is  unreasonable.  No 
other  paper  that  we  ever  heard  of  establishes  any  test  of  -the  Or 
thodoxy  of  works  advertised  in  its  columns;  even  the  Commercial 
Advertiser  and  Journal  of  Commerce  advertise  for  the  very  sect 
proscribed  by  him.  If  one  were  to  attempt  a  discrimination,  where 
would  he  end  ?  One  man  considers  Univerealism  immoral ;  but 
another  is  equally  positive  that  Arminianism  is  so ;  while  a  third 
holds  the  same  bad  opinion  of  Calvinism.  Who  shall  decide  be 
tween  them  ?  Certainly  not  the  Editor  of  a  daily  newspaper,  un 


198  STARTS   THE   TRIBUNE. 

less  ha  prints  it  avowedly  under  the  patronage  of  a  particular  sect 
Our  friend  inquires  whether  we  should  advertise  infidel  books  also 
We  answer,  that  if  any  one  should  offer  an  advertisement  of  lewd, 
ribald,  indecent,  blasphemous  or  law-prohibited  books,  we  should 
claim  the  right  to  reject  it.  But  a  work  no  otherwise  objection 
able  than  as  controverting  the  Christian  record  and  doctrine,  would 
not  be  objected  to  by  us.  True  Christianity  neither  fears  refutation 
nor  dreads  discussion — or,  as  JEFFERSON  has  forcibly  said,  '  Error 
of  opinion  may  be  tolerated  where  Reason  is  left  free  to  combat 
it.'" 

In  politics,  the  Tribune  was  strongly,  yet  not  blindly  whig.  It 
appealed,  in  its  first  number,  to  the  whig  party  for  support.  The 
same  number  expressed  the  decided  opinion,  that  Mr.  Tyler  would 
prove  to  be,  as  president,  all  that  the  whigs  desired,  and  that 
opinion  the  Tribune  was  one  of  the  last  to  yield.  In  September 
it  justified  Daniel  Webster  in  retaining  office,  after  the  *  treachery' 
of  Tyler  was  manifest,  and  when  all  his  colleagues  had  resigned  in 
disgust.  It  justified  him  on  the  ground  that  he  could  best  bring  to 
a  conclusion  the  Ashburton  negotiations.  This  defense  of  Web 
ster  was  deeply  offensive  to  the  more  violent  whigs,  and  it  remain 
ed  a  pretext  of  attack  on  the  Tribune  for  several  years.  With 
regard  to  his  course  in  the  Tyler  controversy,  Mr.  Greeley  wrote 
in  1845  a  long  explanation,  of  which  the  material  passage  was  as 
follows: — "In  December,  1841,  I  visited  Washington  upon  assur 
ances  that  John  Tyler  and  his  advisers  were  disposed  to  return  to 
the  Whig  party,  and  that  I  could  be  of  service  in  bringing  about  a 
complete  reconciliation  between  the  Administration  and  the  Whigs 
in  Congress  and  in  the  country.  I  never  proposed  to  'connect 
myself,  with  the  cause  of  the  Administration,'  but  upon  the  under 
standing  that  it  should  be  heartily  and  faithfully  a  WHIG  Adminis 
tration.  *  *  Finally,  I  declined  utterly  and  absolutely,  to  '  con 
nect  myself  with  the  cause  of  the  Administration'  the  moment  I 
became  satisfied,  as  I  did  during  that  visit,  that  the  Chief  of  the 
Government  did  not  desire  a  reconciliation,  upon  the  basis  of  sus 
taining  Whig  principles  and  Whig  measures,  with  the  party  he 
had  so  deeply  wronged,  but  was  treacherously  coqueting  with  Lo- 
co-Focoism,  and  fooled  with  the  idea  of  a  re-election." 

Agaicst  Repudiation,  then  an  exciting  topic,  the  Tribune  went 


THE    TRIBUNE   AND    FOURIERISM.  91J 

dead  in  many  a  telling  article.     In  behalf  of  Protection  to  Ameri 
can  Industry,  the  editor  wrote  columns  upon  columns. 

In  a  word,  the  Tribune  was  equal  to  its  opportunity ;  it  lived 
up  to  its  privileges.  In  every  department  it  steadily  and  strikingly 
im proved  throughout  the  year.  It  began  its  second  year  with 
twelve  thousand  subscribers,  and  a  daily  average  of  thirteen  col 
umns  of  advertisements.  The  Tribune  was  a  Fixed  Fact. 

The  history  of  a  daily  paper  is  the  history  of  the  world.  It  is 
obviously  impossible  in  the  compass  of  a  work  like  this  to  give 
anything  like  a  complete  history  of  the  Tribune.  For  that  pur 
pose  ten  octavo  volumes  would  be  required,  and  most  interesting 
volumes  they  would  be.  All  that  I  can  do  is  to  select  the  leading 
events  of  its  history  which  were  most  intimately  connected  with 
the  history  of  its  editor,  and  dwell  with  some  minuteness  upon 
them,  connecting  them  together  only  by  a  slender  thread  of  nar 
rative,  and  omitting  even  to  mention  many  things  of  real  interest. 
It  will  be  convenient,  too,  to  group  together  in  separate  chapters 
events  similar  in  their  nature,  but  far  removed  from  one  another 
in  the  time  of  their  occurrence.  Indeed,  I  am  overwhelmed  with 
the  mass  of  materials,  and  must  struggle  out  as  best  I  can. 

A  great  book  is  a  great  evil,  says  the  Greek  Reader.  This  book 
was  fore-ordained  to  be  a  small  one. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

THE    TRIBUNE    AND    FOURIERISM. 

What  made  Horace  Greeley  a  Socialist— The  hard  winter  of  1838— Albert  Brisbane- 
The  subject  broached— Series  of  articles  by  Mr.  Brisbane  begun— Their  effect— Cry 
of  Mad  Dog— Discussion  between  Horace  Greeley  and  Henry  J.  Raymond— How  it 
arose — \bstract  of  it  in  a  conversational  form. 

THE  editor  of  the  Tribune  was  a  Socialist  years  before  the  Tri 
bune  came  into  existence. 
The  winter  of  1838  was  unusually  severe.    The  times  were  hard, 


200  THE    TRIBUNE    AND    FOURIERISM. 

fuel  and  food  were  dear,  many  thousands  of  men  and  women  were 
out  of  employment,  and  there  was  general  distress.  As  the  cold 
months  wore  slowly  on,  the  sufferings  of  the  poor  became  so  aggra 
vated,  and  the  number  of  the  unemployed  increased  to  such  a  de 
gree,  that  the  ordinary  means  were  inadequate  to  relieve  even  those 
who  were  destitute  of  every  one  of  the  necessaries  of  life.  Some 
died  of  starvation.  Some  were  frozen  to  death.  Many,  through 
exposure  and  privation,  contracted  fatal  diseases.  A  large  number, 
who  had  never  before  known  want,  were  reduced  to  beg.  Re 
spectable  mechanics  were  known  to  offer  their  services  as  waiters 
in  eating-houses  for  their  food  only.  There  never  had  been  such  a 
time  of  suffering  in  New  York  before,  and  there  has  not  been  since. 
Extraordinary  measures  were  taken  by  the  comfortable  classes  to 
alleviate  the  sufferings  of  their  unfortunate  fellow-citizens.  Meet 
ings  were  held,  subscriptions  were  made,  committees  were  appoint 
ed  ;  and  upon  one  of  the  committees  Horace  Greeley  was  named  to 
serve,  and  did  serve,  faithfully  and  laboriously,  for  many  weeks. 
The  district  which  his  committee  had  in  charge  was  the  Sixth  Ward, 
the  l  bloody'  Sixth,  the  squalid,  poverty-stricken  Sixth,  the  pool  into 
which  all  that  is  worst  in  this  metropolis  has  a  tendency  to  reel  and 
slide.  It  was  his  task,  and  that  of  his  colleagues,  to  see  that  no  one 
froze  or  starved  in  that  forlorn  and  polluted  region.  More  than  this 
they  could  not  do,  for  the  subscriptions,  liberal  as  they  were,  were 
not  more  than  sufficient  to  relieve  actual  and  pressing  distress.  In 
the  better  parts  of  the  Sixth  Ward  a  large  number  of  mechanics 
lived,  whose  cry  was,  not  for  the  bread  and  the  fuel  of  charity,  but 
for  WORK  1  Charity  their  honest  souls  disdained.  Its  food  choked 
them,  its  fire  chilled  them.  Work,  give  us  work !  was  their  eager, 
passionate  demand. 

All  this  Horace  Greeley  heard  and  saw.  He  was  a  young  man — 
not  quite  twenty-six — compassionate  to  weakness,  generous  to  a 
fault.  He  had  known  what  it  was  to  beg  for  work,  from  shop  to 
shop,  from  town  to  town ;  and,  that  very  winter,  he  was  struggling 
with  debt,  at  no  safe  distance  from  bankruptcy.  Why  must  these 
things  be  ?  Are  they  inevitable  ?  Will  they  always  be  inevitable  ? 
Is  it  in  human  wisdom  to  devise  a  remedy?  in  human  virtue  to  ap 
ply  it?  Can  the  beneficent  God  have  designed  this,  who,  with  such 
wonderful  profusion,  has  provided  for  the  wants,  tastes,  and  luxuries 


ALBERT   BRISBANE.  201 

of  all  his  creatures,  and  for  a  hundred  times  as  many  creatures  a8 
yet  have  lived  at  the  same  time  ?  Such  questions  Horace  Greeley 
pondered,  in  silence,  in  the  depths  of  his  heart,  during  that  winter 
of  misery. 

From  Paris  came  soon  the  calm,  emphatic  answer,  These  things 
need  NOT  be !  They  are  due  alone  to  the  short-sightedness  and  in 
justice  of  man !  Albert  Brisbane  brought  the  message.  Horace 
Greeley  heard  and  believed  it.  He  took  it  to  his  heart.  It  became 
a  part  of  him. 

Albert  Brisbane  was  a  young  gentleman  of  liberal  education,  the 
son  of  wealthy  parents.  His  European  tour  included,  of  course,  a 
residence  at  Paris,  where  the  fascinating  dreams  of  Fourier  were 
the  subject  of  conversation.  He  procured  the  works  of  that  ami 
able  and  noble-minded  man,  read  them  with  eager  interest,  and  be 
came  completely  convinced  that  his  captivating  theories  were  capa 
ble  of  speedy  realization — not,  perhaps,  in  slow  and  conservative 
Europe,  but  in  progressive  and  unshackled  America.  He  returned 
home  a  Fourierite,  and  devoted  himself  with  a  zeal  and  disinterest 
edness  that  are  rare  in  the  class  to  which  he  belonged,  and  that  in 
any  class  cannot  be  too  highly  praised,  to  the  dissemination  of  the 
doctrines  in  which  he  believed.  He  wrote  essays  and  pamphlets. 
He  expounded  Fourierism  in  conversation.  He  started  a  magazine 
called  the  Future,  devoted  to  the  explanation  of  Fourier's  plans, 
published  by  Greeley  &  Co.  He  delivered  lectures.  In  short,  he 
did  all  that  a  man  could  do  to  make  known  to  his  fellow  men  what 
he  believed  it  became  them  to  know.  He  made  a  few  converts, 
but  only  a  few,  till  the  starting  of  the  Tribune  gave  him  access  to 
the  public  ear. 

Horace  Greeley  made  no  secret  of  his  conversion  to  Fourierism. 
On  the  contrary,  he  avowed  it  constantly  in  private,  and  occasion 
ally  in  public  print,  though  never  in  his  own  paper  till  towards  the 
end  of  the  Tribune's  first  year.  His  native  sagacity  taught  him  that 
before  Fourierism  could  be  realized,  a  complete  revolution  in  pub 
lic  sentiment  must  be  effected,  a  revolution  which  would  require 
many  years  of  patient  effort  on  the  part  of  its  advocates. 

The  first  mention  of  Mr.  Brisbane  and  Fourierism  in  the  Tribune, 
appeared  October  21st,  1841.  It  was  merely  a  notice  of  one  of 
Mr.  Brisbane's  lectures : 

9* 


THE   TRIBUNE   AND   FOURIERISM. 

"  Mr.  A.  Brisbane  delivered  a  lecture  at  the  Stuyvesant  Institute  last  evening 
upon  the  Genius  of  Christianity  considered  in  its  bearing  on  the  Social  Insti 
tutions  and  Terrestrial  Destiny  of  the  Human  Race.  He  contended  that  the 
mission  of  Christianity  upon  earth  has  hitherto  been  imperfectly  understood 
and  that  the  doctrines  of  Christ,  carried  into  practical  effect,  would  free  the 
world  of  Want,  Misery,  Temptation  and  Crime.  This,  Mr.  B.  believes,  will  be 
effected  by  a  system  of  Association,  or  the  binding  up  of  indiridual  and  fam 
ily  interests  in  Social  and  Industrial  Communities,  wherein  all  faculties  may 
be  developed,  all  energies  usefully  employed,  all  legitimate  desires  satisfied, 
and  idleness,  want,  temptation  and  crime  be  annihilated.  In  such  Associa 
tions,  individual  property  will  be  maintained,  the  family  be  held  sacred,  and 
every  inducement  held  out  to  a  proper  ambition.  Mr.  B.  will  lecture  hereafter 
on  the  practical  details  of  the  system  of  Fourier,  of  whom  he  is  a  zealous  dis 
ciple,  and  we  shall  then  endeavor  to  give  a  more  clear  and  full  account  of  his 
doctrines." 

A  month  later,  the  Tribune  copied  a  flippant  and  sneering  arti 
cle  from  the  London  Times,  on  the  subject  of  Fourierism  in  France 
In  his  introductory  remarks  the  editor  said : 

"  We  have  written  something,  and  shall  yet  write  much  more,  in  illustra 
tion  and  advocacy  of  the  great  Social  revolution  which  our  age  is  destined  to 
commence,  in  rendering  all  useful  Labor  at  once  attractive  and  honorable, 
and  banishing  Want  and  all  consequent  degradation  from  the  globe.  The 
germ  of  this  revolution  is  developed  in  the  writings  of  Charles  Fourier,  a  phil 
anthropic  and  observing  Frenchman,  who  died  in  1837,  after  devoting  thirty 
years  of  a  studious  and  unobtrusive  life  to  inquiries,  at  once  patient  and  pro 
found,  into  the  causes  of  the  great  mass  of  Social  evils  whbh  overwhelm  Hu 
manity,  and  the  true  means  of  removing  them.  These  means  he  proves  to  be 
a  system  of  Industrial  and  Household  Association,  on  the  principle  of  Joint 
Stock  Investment,  whereby  Labor  will  be  ennobled  and  rendered  attractive 
and  universal,  Capital  be  offered  asecuie  and  lucrative  investment,  and  Tal 
ent  and  Industry  find  appropriate,  constant  employment,  and  adequate  re 
ward,  while  Plenty,  Comfort,  and  the  best  means  of  Intellectual  and  Moral 
Improvement  is  guaranteed  to  all,  regardless  of  former  acquirements  or  con 
dition.  This  grand,  benignant  plan  is  fully  developed  in  the  various  works 
of  M.  Fourier,  which  are  abridged  in  the  single  volume  on  c  The  Social  Des 
tiny  of  Man,'  by  Mr.  A.  Brisbane,  of  this  State.  Some  fifteen  or  sixteen  other 
works  in  illustration  and  defense  of  the  system  have  been  given  to  the  world, 
by  Considerant,  Chevalier,  Paget,  and  other  French  writers,  and  by  Hugh  Do- 
herty,  Dr.  H.  McCormack.  and  others  in  English.  A  tri-weekly  journal  ('  La 
Phalange1)  devoted  to  the  system,  is  published  by  M.  Victor  Considerant  in 


SERIES    OF   ARTICLES    BY   MR.  BRISBANE    BEGUN.  203 

Paris,  and  another  (the  'London  Phalanx')  by  Hugh  Doherty,  in  London, 
sach  ably  edited." 

Early  in  1842,  a  number  of  gentlemen  associated  themselves  to 
gether  for  the  purpose  of  bringing  the  schemes  of  Fourier  fully  and 
prominently  Before  the  public;  and  to  this  end,  they  purchased  the 
right  to  occupy  one  column  daily  on  the  first  page  of  the  Tribune 
with  an  article,  or  articles,  on  the  subject^  from  the  pen  of  Mr. 
Brisbane.  The  first  of  these  articles  appeared  on  the  first  of  March, 
1842,  and  continued,  with  some  interruptions,  at  first  daily,  after 
wards  three  times  a  week,  till  about  the  middle  of  1844,  when  Mr. 
Brisbane  went  again  to  Europe.  The  articles  were  signed  with  the 
letter  B,  and  were  known  to  be  communicated.  They  were  calm 
in  tone,  clear  in  exposition.  At  first,  they  seem  to  have  attracted 
little  attention,  and  less  opposition.  They  were  regarded  (as  far  as 
my  youthful  recollection  serves)  in  the  light  of  articles  to  be  skip 
ped,  and  by  most  of  the  city  readers  of  the  Tribune,  I  presume, 
they  were  skipped  with  the  utmost  regularity,  and  quite  as  a  matter 
of  course.  Occasionally,  however,  the  subject  was  alluded  to  edi 
torially,  and  every  such  allusion  was  of  a  nature  to  be  read.  Grad 
ually,  Fourierism  became  one  of  the  topics  of  the  time.  Gradually 
certain  editors  discovered  that  Fourierism  was  unchristian.  Grad 
ually,  the  cry  of  Mad  Dog  arose.  Meanwhile,  the  articles  of  Mr. 
Brisbane  were  having  their  effect  upon  the  People. 

In  May,  1843,  Mr.  Greeley  wrote,  and  with  perfect  truth : 

"  The  Doctrine  of  Association  is  spreading  throughout  the  country  with  a 
rapidity  which  we  did  not  anticipate,  and  of  which  we  had  but  little  hope. 
W«  receive  papers  from  nearly  all  parts  of  the  Northern  and  Western  States^ 
and  some  from  the  South,  containing  articles  upon  Association,  in  which  gen 
eral  views  and  outlines  of  the  System  are  given.  They  speak  of  the  subject 
as  one  '  which  is  calling  public  attention,1  or,  '  about  which  so  much  is  now 
said,'  or,  '  which  is  a  good  deal  spoken  of  in  this  part  of  the  country,'  &c., 
showing  that  our  Principles  are  becoming  a  topic  of  public  discussion.  From 
the  rapid  progress  of  our  Doctrines  during  the  past  year,  we  look  forward 
with  hope  to  their  rapid  continued  dissemination.  We  foal  perfectly  confident 
that  never,  in  the  history  of  the  world,  has  a  philosophical  doctrine,  or  the  plan 
of  a  great  reform,  spread  with  the  rapidity  which  the  Doctrine  of  Association 
hue  spread  in  the  United  States  for  the  last  year  or  two.  There  are  now  a 
lar^e  number  of  papers,  aad  quite  a  number  of  lecturers  in  various  parts  of 


204  THE    TRIBUNE   AND    FOUBIERISM. 

the  country,  who  are  lending  their  efforts  to  the  cause,  so  that  the  onward 
movement  must  be  greatly  accelerated. 

"Small  Associations  are  springing  up  rapidly  in  various  parts  of  the  coun 
try.  The  Sylvania  Association  in  Pike  country,  Pa.,  is  now  in  operation ; 
about  seventy  persons  are  on  the  domain,  erecting  buildings,  Ac.,  and  prepar 
ing  for  the  reception  of  other  members. 

"  An  Association  has  been  organized  in  Jefferson  county.  *  Our  friend,  A. 
M.  Watson,  is  at  the  head  of  it;  he  has  been  engaged  for  the  last  three  years 
in  spreading  the  principles  in  that  part  of  the  State,  and  the  result  is  the 
formation  of  an  Association.  Several  farmers  have  put  in  their  farms  and 
taken  stock  ;  by  this  means  the  Domain  has  been  obtained.  About  three 
hundred  persons,  we  are  informed,  are  on  the  lands.  They  have  a  very  fine 
quarry  on  their  Domain,  and  they  intend,  among  the  branches  of  Industry 
•which  they  will  pursue,  to  take  contracts  for  erecting  buildings  out  of  the 
Association.  They  are  now  erecting  a  banking-house  in  Watertown,  near 
which  the  Association  is  located. 

"  Efforts  are  making  in  various  parts  of  thui  State,  in  Vermont,  in  Penn 
sylvania,  Indiana,  and  Illinois,  to  establish  Associations,  which  will  probably 
be  successful  in  the  course  of  the  present  year.  We  have  heard  of  these 
movements ;  there  may  be  others  of  which  we  are  not  informed." 

About  the  same  time,  lie  gave  a  box  on  the  ear  to  the  editors  who 
wrote  of  Fonrierism  in  a  hostile  spirit : — "  The  kindness  of  our  friends 
of  the  New  York  Express,  Eoch ester  Evening  Post,  and  sundry 
Other  Journals  which  appear  inclined  to  wage  a  personal  controversy 
with  us  respecting  Fourierism,  (the  Express  without  knowing  how  to 
spell  the  word,)  is  duly  appreciated.  Had  we  time  and  room  foi 
disputation  on  that  subject,  we  would  prefer  opponents  who  would 
not  be  compelled  to  confess  frankly  or  betray  clearly  their  utter 
ignorance  of  the  matter,  whatever  might  be  their  manifestations  of 
personal  pique  or  malevolence  in  unfair  representations  of  the  little 
they  do  understand.  We  counsel  our  too  belligerent  friends  to  pos 
sess  their  souls  in  patience,  and  not  be  too  eager  to  rival  the  for 
tune  of  him  whose  essay  proving  that  steamships  could  not  cross 
the  Atlantic  happened  to  reach  us  in  the  first  steamship  that  did 
cross  it.  '  The  proof  of  the  pudding '  is  not  found  in  wrangling 
about  it." 

"We  also  find,  occasionally,  a  paragraph  in  the  Tribune  like  this : 
"T.  W.  Whitley  and  H.  Greeley  will  address  such  citizens  of  New- 
ark  as  choose  to  hear  them  on  the  subject  of  *  Association '  at  tl\ 


DISCUSSION  BETWEEN  H.  GREELEY  AND  H.  J.  RAYMOND.       205 

o'clock  this  evening  at  the  Relief  Hall,  rear  of  J.  M.  Quiinby's  Re 
pository." 

Too  fast.  Too  fast.  I  need  not  detail  the  progress  of  Fourier- 
jsm — the  many  attempts  made  to  establish  Associations — the  failure 
of  all  of  them  but  one,  which  still  exists — the  ruin  that  ensued  to 
many  worthy  men — the  ridicule  with  which  the  Associationists  were 
assailed — the  odium  excited  in  many  minds  against  the  Tribune — 
the  final  relinquishment  of  the  subject.  All  this  is  perfectly  well 
known  to  the  people  of  this  country. 

Let  us  come,  at  once,  to  the  grand  climax  of  the  Tribune's  Fou- 
rierism,  the  famous  discussion  of  the  subject  between  Horace  Gree- 
ley  and  H.  J.  Raymond,  of  the  Courier  and  Enquirer,  in  the  year 
1846.  That  discussion  finished  Fourierism  in  the  United  States. 

Mr.  Raymond  had  left  the  Tribune,  and  joined  the  Courier  and 
Enquirer,  at  the  solicitation  of  Col.  Webb,  the  editor  of  the  latter. 
It  was  a  pity  the  Tribune  let  him  go,  for  he  is  a  born  journalist,  and 
could  have  helped  the  Tribune  to  attain  the  position  of  the  great, 
only,  undisputed  Metropolitan  Journal,  many  years  sooner  than  it 
will.  Horace  Greeley  is  not  a  born  journalist.  He  is  too  much  in 
earnest  to  be  a  perfect  editor.  He  has  too  many  opinions  and  pref 
erences.  He  is  a  BORN  LEGISLATOR,  a  Deviser  of  Remedies,  a  Sug- 
gester  of  Expedients,  a  Framer  of  Measures.  The  most  successful 
editor  is  he  whose  great  endeavor  it  is  to  tell  the  public  all  it  wants 
to  fawWi  and  whose  comments  on  passing  events  best  express  the 
feeling  of  the  country  with  regard  to  them.  Mr.  Raymond  is 
not  a  man  of  first-rate  talent — great  talent  would  be  in  his  way — 
he  is  most  interesting  when  he  attacks ;  and  of  the  varieties  of 
composition,  polished  vituperation  is  not  the  most  difficult.  But 
he  has  the  right  notion  of  editing  a  daily  paper,  and  when  the  Tri 
bune  lost  him,  it  lost  more  than  it  had  the  slightest  idea  of— as 
events  have  since  shown. 

However,  Horace  Greeley  and  Henry  J.  Raymond,  the  one  nat 
urally  liberal,  the  other  naturally  conservative — the  one  a  Universal- 
ist,  the  other  a  Presbyterian — the  one  regarding  the  world  as  a 
place  to  be  made  better  by  living  in  it,  the  other  regarding  it  as 
an  oyster  to  be  opened,  and  bent  on  opening  it — would  have  found 
it  hard  to  work  together  on  equal  terms.  They  separated  amicably, 
and  each  went  his  way.  The  discussion  of  Fourierism  arose  thus  • 


206  THE    TRIBUNE   AND    FOURIERISM. 

Mr.  Brisbane,  on  his  return  from  Europe,  renewed  the  agitation 
of  his  subject.  The  Tribune  of  August  19th,  1846,  contained  a 
letter  by  him,  addressed  to  the  editors  of  the  Courier  and  Enquirer, 
proposing  several  questions,  to  which  answers  were  requested, 
respecting  Social  Reform.  The  Courier  replied.  The  Tribune  re 
joined  editorially,  and  was  answered  in  turn  by  the  Courier.  Mr. 
Brisbane  addressed  a  second  letter  to  the  Courier,  and  sent  it 
direct  to  the  editor  of  that  paper  in  manuscript.  The  Courier 
agreed  to  publish  it,  if  the  Tribune  would  give  place  to  its  reply. 
The  Tribune  declined  doing  so,  but  challenged  the  editor  of  the 
Courier  to  a  public  discussion  of  the  whole  subject. 

'*  Though  we  cannot  now,"  wrote  Mr.  Greeley,  "  open  our  col 
umns  to  a  set  discussion  by  others  of  social  questions  (which  may 
or  may  not  refer  mainly  to  points  deemed  relevant  by  us),  we  readily 
close  with  the  spirit  of  the  Courier's  proposition.  *  *  As  soon 
as  the  State  election  is  fairly  over — say  Nov.  10th— we  will  pub 
lish  an  entire  article,  filling  a  column  of  the  Tribune,  very  nearly, 
in  favor  of  Association  as  we  understand  it ;  and,  upon  the  Courier 
copying  this  and  replying,  we  will  give  place  to  its  reply,  and  re 
spond  ;  and  so  on,  till  each  party  shall  have  published  twelve  articles 
on  its  own  side,  and  twelve  on  the  other,  which  shall  fulfill  the 
terms  of  this  agreement.  All  the  twelve  articles  of  each  party 
shall  be  published  without  abridgment  or  variation  in  the  Daily, 
Weekly,  and  Semi-weekly  editions  of  both  papers.  Afterward  each 
party  will,  of  course,  be  at  liberty  to  comment  at  pleasure  in  his 
own  columns.  In  order  that  neither  paper  shall  be  crowded  with 
this  discussion,  one  article  per  week,  only,  on  either  side,  shall  be 
published,  unless  the  Courier  shall  prefer  greater  dispatch.  Is  not 
this  a  fair  proposition  ?  What  says  the  Courier  ?  It  has,  of  course, 
the  advantage  of  the  defensive  position  and  of  the  last  word." 

The  Courier  said,  after  much  toying  and  dallying,  and  a  pre 
liminary  skirmish  of  paragraphs,  COME  ON!  and,  on  the  20th  of 
November,  the  Tribune  came  on.  The  debate  lasted  six  months. 
It  was  conducted  on  both  sides  with  spirit  and  ability,  and  it  at 
tracted  much  attention.  The  twenty-four  articles,  of  which  it  con 
sisted,  were  afterwards  published  by  the  Harpers  in  a  pamphlet  of 
eighty-three  closely-printed,  double-columned  pages,  which  had  a 
considerable  sale,  and  has  long  been  out  of  prio.t.  On  one  side 


ABSTRACT    OF    THE    DISCUSSION.  207 

we  see  earnestness  and  sincerity;  on  the  other  tact  and  skill. 
One  strove  to  convince,  the  other  to  triumph.  The  thread  of  ar 
gument  is  often  lost  in  a  maze  of  irrelevancy.  The  subject,  in 
deed,  was  peculiarly  ill  calculated  for  a  public  discussion.  When 
men  converse  on  a  scheme  which  has  for  its  object  the  good  of 
mankind,  let  them  confer  in  awful  whispers — apart,  like  conspir 
ators  ,  not  distract  themselves  in  dispute  in  the  hearing  of  a  nation  ; 
for  they  who  would  benefit  mankind  must  do  it  either  by  stealth 
or  by  violence. 

I  have  tried  to  condense  this  tremendous  pamphlet  into  the  form 
and  brevity  of  a  conversation,  with  the  following  result.  Neither 
of  the  speakers,  however,  are  to  be  held  responsible  for  the  language 
employed. 

Horace  Greeley.  Nov.  2Qth.  The  earth,  the  air,  the  waters,  the 
sunshine,  with  their  natural  products,  were  divinely  intended  and 
appointed  for  the  sustenance  and  enjoyment  of  the  whole  human 
family.  But  the  present  fact  is,  that  a  very  large  majority  of  man 
kind  are  landless  ;  and,  by  law,  the  landless  have  no  inherent  right 
to  stand  on  a  single  square  foot  of  their  native  State,  except  in  the 
highways.  Perishing  with  cold,  they  have  no  legal  right  to  a  stick 
of  decaying  fuel  in  the  most  unfrequented  morass.  Famishing,  they 
have  no  legal  right  to  pluck  and  eat  the  bitterest  acorn  in  the  depth3 
of  the  remotest  forest.  But  the  Past  cannot  be  recalled.  What 
has  been  done,  has  been  done.  The  legal  rights  of  individuals  must 
be  held  sacred.  But  those  whom  society  has  divested  of  their  natu 
ral  right  to  a  share  in  the  soil,  are  entitled  to  Compensation,  i.  e.  to 
continuous  opportunity  to  earn  a  subsistence  by  Labor.  To  own 
land  is  to  possess  this  opportunity.  The  majority  own  no  land. 
Therefore  the  minority,  who  own  legally  all  the  land,  which  natu 
rally  belongs  to  all  men  alike,  are  bound  to  secure  to  the  landless 
majority  a  compensating  security  of  remunerating  Labor.  But,  aa 
society  is  now  organized,  this  is  not,  and  cannot  be,  done.  "  Work, 
work  !  give  us  something  to  do!  anything  that  will  secure  us  hon 
est  bread,"  is  at  this  moment  the  prayer  of  not  less  than  thirty 
thousand  human  beings  within  the  sound  of  the  City-Hall  bell. 
Here  is  an  enormous  waste  and  loss.  We  must  devise  a  remedy 
and'that  remedy,  I  propose  to  show,  is  found  in  Association. 


208  THE    TRIBUNE    AND    FOURIERISM. 

H.  J.  Raymond.  Nov.  23$.  Heavens  !  Here  we  have  one  of  the 
leading  Whig  presses  of  New  York  advocating  the  doctrine  that  no 
man  can  rightfully  own  land  !  Fanny  Wright  was  of  that  opinion. 
The  doctrine  is  erroneous  and  dangerous.  If  a  man  cannot  right 
fully  own  land,  he  cannot  rightfully  own  anything  which  the  land 
produces ;  that  is,  he  cannot  rightfully  own  anything  at  all.  The 
blessed  institution  of  property,  the  basis  of  the  social  fabric,  from 
which  arts,  agriculture,  commerce,  civilization  spring,  and  without 
which  they  could  not  exist,  is  threatened  with  destruction,  and  by 
a  leading  Whig  paper  too.  Conservative  Powers,  preserve  us ! 

Horace  Greeley.  Nov.  %Gth.  Fudge !  What  I  said  was  this :  So 
ciety,  having  divested  the  majority  of  any  right  to  the  soil,  is  bound 
to  compensate  them  by  guaranteeing  to  each  an  opportunity  of  earn 
ing  a  subsistence  by  Labor.  Your  vulgar,  clap-trap  allusion  to  Fan 
ny  Wright  does  not  surprise  me.  I  shall  neither  desert  nor  deny  a 
truth  because  she,  or  any  one  else,  has  proclaimed  it.  But  to  pro 
ceed.  By  association  I  mean  a  Social  Order,  which  shall  take  the 
place  of  the  present  Township,  to  be  composed  of  some  hundreds 
or  some  thousands  of  persons,  who  shall  be  united  together  in  inter 
est  and  industry  for  the  purpose  of  securing  to  each  individual  the 
following  things  :  1,  an  elegant  and  commodious  house  ;  2,  an  edu 
cation,  complete  and  thorough  ;  3,  a  secure  subsistence ;  4,  oppor 
tunity  to  labor ;  5,  fair  wages ;  6,  agreeable  social  relations ;  7,  prog 
ress  in  knowledge  and  skill.  As  society  is  at  present  organized, 
these  are  the  portion  of  a  very  small  minority.  But  by  association 
of  capital  and  industry,  they  might  become  the  lot  of  all ;  inasmuch 
as  association  tends  to  Economy  in  all  departments,  economy  in 
lands,  fences,  fuel,  household  labor,  tools,  education,  medicine,  legal 
advice,  and  commercial  exchanges.  My  opponent  will  please  ob 
serve  that  his  article  is  three  times  as  long  as  mine,  and  devoted  in 
good  part  to  telling  the  public  that  the  Tribune  is  an  exceedingly 
mischievous  paper ;  which  is  an  imposition. 

H.  J.  Raymond.  Nov.  80th.  A  home,  fair  wages,  education,  etc., 
are  very  desirable,  we  admit;  and  it  is  the  unceasing  aim  of  all  good 
men  in  society,  as  it  now  exists,  to  place  those  blessings  within  the 
reach  of  all.  The  Tribune's  claim  that  it  can  be  accomplished  only 
by  association  is  only  a  claim.  Substantiate  it.  Give  us  proof  of 


ABSTRACT    OF   THE   DISCUSSION.  209 

its  effLacy.  Tell  us  in  whom  the  property  is  to  be  vested,  how 
labor  is  to  be  remunerated,  what  share  capital  is  to  have  in  the  con 
cern,  by  what  device  men  are  to  be  induced  to  labor,  how  moral 
offenses  are  to  be  excluded  or  punished.  Then  we  may  be  able  to 
discuss  the  subject.  Nothing  was  stipulated  about  the  length  of  the 
articles ;  and  we  do  think  the  Tribune  a  mischievous  paper. 

Horace  Greeley.  Dec.  1st.  The  property  of  an  association  will 
be  vested  in  those  who  contributed  the  capital  to  establish  it,  repre 
sented  by  shares  of  stock,  just  as  the  property  of  a  bank,  factory,  or 
railroad  now  is.  Labor,  skill  and  talent,  will  be  remunerated  by  a 
fixed  proportion  of  their  products,  or  of  its  proceeds,  if  sold.  Men 
will  be  induced  to  labor  by  a  knowledge  that  its  rewards  will  be  a 
certain  and  major  proportion  of  the  product,  which  of  course  will 
be  less  or  more  according  to  the  skill  and  industry  of  each  individ 
ual.  The  slave  has  no  motive  to  diligence  except  fear;  the  hireling 
is  tempted  to  eye-service  ;  the  solitary  worker  for  himself  is  apt  to 
become  disheartened ;  but  men  working  for  themselves,  in  groups, 
will  find  labor  not  less  attractive  than  profitable.  Moral  offenses 
will  be  punished  by  legal  enactment,  and  they  will  be  rendered  un 
frequent  by  plenty  and  education. 

IT.  J.  Raymond.  Dec.  8th.  Oh — then  the  men  of  capital  are  to 
own  the  land,  are  they?  Let  us  see.  A  man  with  money  enough 
may  buy  an  entire  domain  of  five  thousand  acres;  men  without 
money  will  cultivate  it  on  condition  of  receiving  a  fixed  proportion 
of  its  products ;  the  major  part,  says  the  Tribune ;  suppose  we  say 
three-fourths.  Then  the  contract  is  simply  this : —  One  rich  man 
(or  company}  owns  jive  thousand  acres  of  land,  which  he  leases  forever 
to  two  thousand  poor  men  at  the  yearly  rent  of  one-fourth  of  its 
products.  It  is  an  affair  of  landlord  and  tenant — the  lease  perpet 
ual,  payment  in  kind ;  and  the  landlord  to  own  the  cattle,  tools, 
and  furniture  of  the  tenant,  as  well  as  the  land.  Association,  then, 
is  merely  a  plan  for  extending  the  relation  of  landlord  and  tenant 
over  the  whole  arable  surface  of  the  earth. 

Horace  Greeley.  Dec.  IQth.  By  no  means.  The  capital  of  a 
mature  association  would  be,  perhaps,  half  a  million  of  dollars;  if 


210  THE    TRIBUNE   AND    FOURIERISM. 

an  infant  assoc  ation,  fifty  thousand  dollars ;  and  this  increase  of 
value  would  be  both  created  and  owned  by  Labor.  In  an  ordinary 
township,  however,  the  increase,  though  all  created  by  Labor,  ia 
chiefly  owned  by  Capital.  The  majority  of  the  inhabitants  remain 
poor;  while  a  few — merchants,  land-owners,  mill-owners,  and  manu 
facturers — are  enriched.  That  this  is  the  fact  in  recently-settled 
townships,  is  undeniable.  That  it  would  not  be  the  fact  in  a  town 
ship  settled  and  cultivated  on  the  principle  of  association,  seems  to 
me  equally  so. 

H.  J.  Raymond.  Dec  14=t7t.  But  not  to  me.  Suppose  fifty  men 
furnish  fifty  thousand  dollars  for  an  association  upon  which  a  hun 
dred  and  fifty  others  are  to  labor  and  to  live.  With  that  sum  they 
buy  the  land,  build  the  houses,  and  procure  everything  needful  for 
the  start.  The  capitalists,  bear  in  mind,  are  the  absolute  owners  of 
the  entire  property  of  the  association.  In  twenty  years,  that  prop 
erty  may  be  worth  half  a  million,  and  it  still  remains  the  property 
of  the  capitalists,  the  laborers  having  annually  drawn  their  share  of 
the  products.  They  may  have  saved  a  portion  of  their  annual 
share,  and  thus  have  accumulated  property ;  but  they  have  no  more 
title  to  the  domain  than  they  had  at  first.  If  the  concern  should 
not  prosper,  the  laborers  could  not  buy  shares;  if  it  should,  the 
capitalists  would  not  sell  except  at  their  increased  value.  What 
advantage,  then,  does  association  offer  for  the  poor  man's  acquiring 
property  superior  to  that  aiforded  by  the  present  state  of  things? 
None,  that  we  can  see.  On  the  contrary,  the  more  rapidly  the 
domain  of  an  association  should  increase  in  value,  the  more  difficult 
it  would  be  for  the  laboring  man  to  rise  to  the  class  of  proprietors ; 
and  this  would  simply  be  an  aggravation  of  the  worst  features  of 
the  social  system.  And  how  you  associationists  would  quarrel !  The 
skillful  would  be  ever  grumbling  at  the  awkward,  and  the  lazy  would 
shirk  their  share  of  the  work,  but  clamor  for  their  share  of  the 
product.  There  would  be  ten  occasions  for  bickerings  where  now 
there  is  one.  The  fancies  of  the  associationist,  in  fact,  are  as  base 
less,  though  not  as  beautiful,  as  More's  Utopia,  or  the  Happy  Valley 
of  Rasselas. 

Horace  Greeley     Dec.  IGth.     No,  Sir!    In  Association,  those  who 


ABSTRACT    OF    THE   DISCUSSION.  211 

furnish  the  original  capital  are  the  owners  merely  of  so  much  stock 
in  the  concern — not  of  all  the  land  and  other  property,  as  you  repre 
sent.  Suppose  that  capital  to  be  fifty  thousand  dollars.  At  the  end 
of  the  first  year  it  is  found  that  twenty-five  thousand  dollars  have 
been  added  to  the  value  of  the  property  by  Labor.  For  this  amount 
new  stock  is  issued,  which  is  apportioned  to  Capital,  Labor  and  Skill 
as  impartial  justice  shall  dictate — to  the  non-resident  capitalist  a 
certain  proportion ;  to  the  working  capitalist  the  same  proportion, 
plus  the  excess  of  his  earnings  over  his  expenses ;  to  the  laborer 
that  excess  only.  The  apportionment  is  repeated  every  year ;  and 
the  proportion  of  the  new  stock  assigned  to  Capital  is  such  that 
when  the  property  of  the  association  is  worth  half  a  million,  Capi 
tal  will  own  about  one-fifth  of  it.  With  regard  to  the  practical 
working  of  association,  I  point  you  to  the  fact  that  association  and 
civilization  are  one.  They  advance  and  recede  together.  In  this 
age  we  have  large  steamboats,  monster  hotels,  insurance,  partner 
ships,  joint  stock  companies,  public  schools,  libraries,  police,  Odd 
Fellowship— -all  of  which  are  exemplifications  of  the  idea  upon 
which  association  is  based  ;  all  of  which  work  well  as  institutions, 
and  are  productive  of  incalculable  benefits  to  mankind. 


H.  J.  Raymond.  Dec.  24^.  Of  course; — but  association  as 
sumes  to  shape  and  govern  the  details  of  social  life,  which  is  a  very 
different  affair.  One  '  group]  it  appears,  is  to  do  all  the  cooking, 
another  the  gardening,  another  the  ploughing.  But  suppose  that 
some  who  want  to  be  cooks  are  enrolled  in  the  gardening  group. 
They  will  naturally  sneer  at  the  dishes  cooked  by  their  rivals,  per 
haps  form  a  party  for  the  expulsion  of  the  cooks,  and  so  bring  about 
a  kitchen  war.  Then,  who  will  consent  to  be  a  member  of  the 
boot-blacking,  ditch-digging  and  sink-cleaning  groups  ?  Such  labors 
must  be  done,  and  groups  must  be  detailed  to  do  them.  Then,  who 
is  to  settle  the  wages  question  ?  Who  is  to  determine  upon  the  com 
parative  efficiency  of  each  laborer,  and  settle  the  comparative  value 
of  his  work?  There  is  the  religious  difficulty  too,  and  the  educa 
tional  difficulty,  the  medical  difficulty,  and  numberless  other  diffi 
culties,  arising  from  differences  of  opinion,  so  radical  and  so  earnest 
ly  entertained  as  to  preclude  the  possibility  of  a  large  number  of 


212  THE   TRIBUNE   AND   FOURIERISM. 

persons  living  together  in  the  intimate  relation  contemplated  bj 
association. 

Horace  Greeley.  Dec.  28th.  Not  so  fast.  After  the  first  steam 
ship  hAd  crossed  the  Atlantic  all  the  demonstrations  of  the  impos 
sibility  of  that  fact  fell  to  the  ground.  Now,  with  regard  to  as 
sociations,  the  first  steamship  has  crossed!  The  communities  of 
Zoar  and  Rapp  have  existed  from  twenty  to  forty  years,  and  several 
associations  of  the  kind  advocated  by  me  have  survived  from  two 
to  five  years,  not  only  without  being  broken  up  by  the  difficulties 
alluded  to,  but  without  their  presenting  themselves  in  the  light  of 
difficulties  at  all.  No  inter-kitchen  war  has  disturbed  their  peace, 
no  religious  differences  have  marred  their  harmony,  and  men  have 
been  found  willing  to  perform  ungrateful  offices,  required  by  the 
general  good.  Passing  over  your  objections,  therefore,  I  beg  you 
to  consider  the  enormous  difficulties,  the  wrongs,  the  waste,  the  mis 
ery,  occasioned  by  and  inseparable  from  society  as  it  is  now  organ 
ized.  For  example,  the  coming  on  of  winter  contracts  business  and 
throws  thousands  out  of  employment.  They  and  their  families  suf 
fer,  the  dealers  who  supply  them  are  losers  in  custom,  the  alms- 
house  is  crowded,  private  charity  is  taxed  to  the  extreme,  many  die 
of  diseases  induced  by  destitution,  some  are  driven  by  despair  to 
intoxication  ;  and  all  this,  while  every  ox  and  horse  is  well  fed  and 
cared  for,  while  there  is  inaccessible  plenty  all  around,  while  capi 
tal  is  luxuriating  on  the  products  of  the  very  labor  which  is  now  pal 
sied  and  suffering.  Under  the  present  system,  capital  is  everything, 
man  nothing,  except  as  a  means  of  accumulating  capital.  Capital 
founds  a  factory,  and  for  the  single  purpose  of  increasing  capital, 
taking  no  thought  of  the  human  beings  by  whom  it  is  increased. 
The  fundamental  ideas  of  association,  on  the  other  hand,  is  to  effect 
a  just  distribution  of  products  among  capital,  talent  and  labor. 

H.  J.  Raymond.  Jan.  6th.  The  idea  may  be  good  enough ; 
but  the  means  are  impracticable  ;  the  details  are  absurd,  if  not  in 
humane  and  impious.  The  Tribune's  admission,  that  an  association 
of  indolent  or  covetous  persons  could  not  endure  without  a  moral 
transformation  of  its  members,  seems  to  us  fatal  to  the  whole  theory 
of  association.  It  implies  that  indhidual  reform  must  precede  so 


ABSTRACT   OF    THE   DISCUSSION.  213 

eial  reform,  which  is  precisely  our  position.  But  IIOTV  *>  individual 
reform  to  be  effected  ?  By  association,  says  the  Tribune.  That  is, 
the  motion  of  the  water-wheel  is  to  produce  the  water  bj  which 
alone  it  can  be  set  in  motion — the  action  of  the  watch  is  to  pro 
duce  the  main-spring  without  which  it  cannot  move.  Absurd. 

Horace  Greeley.  Jan.  ISth.  Incorrigible  mis-stater  of  my  posi 
tions  !  I  am  as  well  aware  as  you  are  that  the  mass  of  the  igno 
rant  and  destitute  are,  at  present,  incapable  of  so  much  as  under 
standing  the  social  order  I  propose,  much  less  of  becoming  efficient 
members  of  an  association.  What  I  say  is,  let  those  who  are  capa- 
ole  of  understanding  and  promoting  it,  begin  the  work,  found  asso 
ciations,  and  show  the  rest  of  mankind  how  to  live  and  thrive  in 
harmonious  industry.  You  tell  me  that  the  sole  efficient  agency  of 
Social  Reform  is  Christianity.  I  answer  that  association  is  Chris 
tianity  ;  and  the  dislocation  now  existing  between  capital  and  labor, 
between  the  capitalist  and  the  laborer,  is  as  atheistic  as  it  is  in 
human. 

H.  J.  Raymond.  Jan.  %Qth.  Stop  a  moment.  The  test  of  true 
benevolence  is  practice,  not  preaching;  and  we  have  no  hesitation 
in  saying  that  the  members  of  any  one  of  our  city  churches  do 
more  every  year  for  the  practical  relief  of  poverty  and  suffering 
than  any  phalanx  that  ever  existed.  There  are  in  our  midst  hun 
dreds  of  female  sewing  societies,  each  of  which  clothes  more  naked 
ness  and  feeds  more  hunger,  than  any  '  association '  that  ever  was 
formed.  There  is  a  single  individual  in  this  city  whom  the  Tribune 
has  vilified  as  a  selfish,  grasping  despiser  of  the  poor,  who  has  ex 
pended  more  money  in  providing  the  poor  with  food,  clothing,  edu- 
cuation,  sound  instruction  in  morals  and  religion,  than  all  the  advo 
cates  of  association  in  half  a  century.  While  association  has  been 
theorizing  about  starvation,  Christianity  has  been  preventing  it. 
Associationists  tell  us,  that  giving  to  the  poor  deepens  the  evil 
which  it  aims  to  relieve,  and  that  the  bounty  of  the  benevolent,  as 
society  is  now  organized,  is  very  often  abused.  We  assure  them,  it 
is  not  the  social  system  which  abuses  the  bounty  of  the  benevolent ; 
it  is  simply  the  tiim^nesty  and  indolence  of  individuals,  and  they 
would  do  the  same  undor  any  system,  and  especially  in  association. 


214  THE   TRIBUNE    AND   FOURIERISM. 

Horace  Greeley.  Jan.  29 th.  Private  benevolence  is  good  and 
necessary ;  the  Tribune  has  ever  been  its  cordial  and  earnest  ad 
vocate.  But  benevolence  relieves  only  the  effects  of  poverty,  while 
Association  proposes  to  reach  and  finally  eradicate  its  causes.  The 
charitable  are  doing  nobly  this  winter  for  the  relief  of  the  destitute ; 
but  will  there  be  in  this  city  next  winter  fewer  objects  of  charity 
than  there  are  now  ?  And  let  me  tell  yon,  sir,  if  you  do  not  know 
it  already,  that  the  advocates  of  association,  in  proportion  to  their 
number,  and  their  means,  are,  at  least,  as  active  and  as  ready  in 
feeding  the  hungry  and  clothing  the  naked,  as  any  class  in  the  com 
munity.  Make  the  examinations  as  close  as  you  please,  bring  it  as 
near  home  as  you  like,  and  you  will  find  the  fact  to  be  as  I  have 
asserted. 

H.  J.  Raymond.  Feb.  1.0th.  You  overlook  one  main  objection. 
Association  aims,  not  merely  to  re-organize  Labor,  but  to  revolu 
tionize  Society,  to  change  radically  Laws,  Government,  Manners 
and  Religion.  It  pretends  to  be  a  new  Social  Science,  discovered 
by  Fourier.  In  our  next  article  we  shall  show  what  its  principles 
are,  and  point  out  their  inevitable  tendency. 

Horace  Greeley.  Feb.  17th.  Do  so.  Meanwhile  let  me  remind 
yon,  that  there  is  need  of  a  new  Social  System,  when  the  old  one 
works  so  villanously  and  wastefully.  There  is  Ireland,  with  three 
hundred  thousand  able-bodied  men,  willing  to  work,  yet  unem 
ployed.  Their  labor  is  worth  forty-five  millions  of  dollars  a  ye.ir, 
which  they  need,  and  Ireland  needs,  but  which  the  present  Social 
System  dooms  to  waste.  There  is  work  enough  in  Ireland  to  do, 
and  men  enough  willing  to  do  it ;  but  the  spell  of  a  vicious  Social 
System  broods  over  the  island,  and  keeps  the  woikmen  and  the 
work  apart.  Four  centuries  ago,  the  English  laborer  could  earn 
by  his  labor  a  good  and  sufficient  subsistence  for  hi*  family.  Since 
that  time  Labor  and  Talent  have  made  England  rich  '  beyond  the 
dreams  of  avarice  ;'  and,  at  this  day,  the  Laborer,  as  a  rule,  cannot, 
by  unremitting  toil,  fully  supply  the  necessities  of  his  family.  His 
bread  is  coarse,  his  clothing  scanty,  his  home  a  hovel,  his  childrer 
uninstructed,  his  life  cheerless.  He  lives  from  hand  to  mouth  ir 
abject  terror  of  the  poor-house,  wnere,  he  shudders  to  think,  he 


ABSTRACT    OF    THE    DISCUSSION.  215 

must  end  his  days.  Precisely  the  same  causes  are  in  operation 
here,  and,  in  due  time,  will  produce  precisely  the  same  effects. 
There  is  NEED  of  a  Social  Ke-formation  ! 

H.  J.  Raymond.  March  3d.  You  are  mistaken.  The  state 
ment  that  the  laborers  of  the  present  day  are  worse  off  than  those 
of  former  ages,  has  been  exploded.  They  are  not.  On  the  contrary, 
their  condition  is  better  in  every  respect.  Evils  under  the  present 
Social  System  exist,  great  evils — evils,  for  the  removal  of  whicL 
the  most  constant  and  zealous  efforts  ought  to  be  made  ;  yet  they 
are  very  far  from  being  as  great  or  as  general  as  the  Associationists 
assert.  The  fact  is  indisputable,  that,  as  a  rule  throughout  the 
country,  no  honest  man,  able  and  willing  to  work,  need  stand  idle 
from  lack  of  opportunity.  The  exceptions  to  this  rule  are  com 
paratively  few,  and  arise  from  temporary  and  local  causes.  But  we 
proceed,  to  examine  the  fundamental  principle  of  the  Social  System 
proposed  to  be  substituted  for  that  now  established.  In  one  word, 
that  principle  is  Self-indulgence  !  "  Reason  and  Passion,"  writes 
Parke  Godwin,  the  author  of  one  of  the  clearest  expositions  of  So 
cialism  yet  published,  "  will  be  in  perfect  accord :  duty  and  pleas 
ure  will  have  the  same  meaning;  without  inconvenience  or  calcu 
lation,  man  will  follow  his  bent:  hearing  only  of  Attraction,  he  will 
never  act  from  necessity,  and  never  curb  himself  by  restraints." 
What  becomes  of  the  self-denial  so  expressly,  so  frequently,  so  em 
phatically  enjoined  by  the  New  Testament  ?  Fourierism  and  Chris 
tianity,  Fourierism  and  Morality,  Fourierism  and  Conjugal  Constancy 
are  in  palpable  hostility  !  We  are  told,  that  if  a  man  has  a  passion 
for  a  dozen  kinds  of  work,  he  joins  a  dozen  groups  ;  if  for  a  dozen 
kinds  of  study,  lie  joins  a  dozen  groups  ;  and,  if  for  a  dozen  women, 
the  System  requires  that  there  must  be  a  dozen  different  groups  for 
his  full  gratification  !  For  man  will  follow  his  bent,  and  never  curb 
himself  by  restraints  ! 

Horace  Greeley.  March  12th.  Not  so.  I  re-assert  what  I  before 
proved,  that  the  English  laborers  of  to-day  are  worse  off  than  those 
of  former  centuries ;  and  I  deny  with  disgust  and  indignation  that 
there  is  in  Socialism,  as  American  Socialists  understand  and  teach  it, 
any  provision  or  license  for  the  gratification  of  criminal  passions  o? 


216  THE    TRIBUNE   AND   FOURIERISM. 

nnlawful  desires.  Why  not  quote  Mr.  Godwin  fully  and  fairly? 
Why  suppress  his  remark,  that,  "  So  long  as  the  Passions  may 
bring  forth  Disorder — so  long  as  Inclination  may  be  in  opposition 
to  Duty — we  reprobate  as  strongly  as  any  class  of  men  all  indulg 
ence  of  the  inclinations  and  feelings ;  and  where  Reason  is  unable 
to  guide  them,  have  no  objection  to  other  means"  ?  Socialists  know 
nothing  of  Groups,  organized,  or  to  be  organized,  for  the  perpetra 
tion  of  crimes,  or  the  practice  of  vices. 

H.  J.  Raymond.  March  19th.  Perhaps  not.  But  7  know,  from 
the  writings  of  leading  Socialists,  that  the  law  of  Passional  Attrac 
tion,  i.  e.  Self-Indulgence,  is  the  essential  and  fundamental  principle 
of  Association ;  and  that,  while  Christianity  pronounces  the  free 
and  full  gratification  of  the  passions  a  crime,  Socialism  extols  it  as 
a  virtue. 

Horace  Greeley.  March  26th.  Impertinent.  Your  articles  are  all 
entitled  "  The  Socialism  of  the  Tribune  examined" ;  and  the  Tri 
bune  has  never  contained  a  line  to  justify  your  unfair  inferences 
from  garbled  quotations  from  the  writings  of  Godwin  and  Fourier. 
What  the  Tribune  advocates  is,  simply  and  solely,  such  an  organiza 
tion  of  Society  as  will  secure  to  every  man  the  opportunity  of  unin 
terrupted  and  profitable  labor,  and  to  every  child  nourishment  and 
culture.  These  things,  it  is  undeniable,  the  present  Social  System 
4oes  not  secure ;  and  hence  the  necessity  of  a  new  and  better  organ 
ization.  So  no  more  of  your  '  Passional  Attraction.' 

H.  J.  Raymond.  April  16th.  I  tell  you  the  scheme  of  Fourier  is 
essentially  and  fundamentally  irreligious  !  by  which  I  mean  that  it 
cloes  not  follow  my  Catechism,  and  apparently  ignores  the  Thirty- 
Nine  Articles.  Shocking. 

Horace  Greeley,     April  28^.     Humph ! 

H.  J.  Raymond.  May  20th.  The  Tribune  is  doing  a  great  deal  of 
harm.  The  editor  does  not  know  it — but  it  is. 

Thus  ended  Fourierism.     Thenceforth,  the  Tribune  alluded  to  tho 


THE   TRIBUNE'S    SECOND    YEAR.  217 

subject  occasionally,  but  only  in  reply  to  those  who  sought  to  make 
political  or  personal  capital  by  reviving  it  By  its  discussion  of  the 
subject  it  rendered  a  great  service  to  the  country  :  first,  by  afford 
ing  one  more  proof  that,  for  the  ills  that  flesh  is  heir  to,  there  is, 
there  can  be,  no  panacea ;  secondly,  by  exhibiting  the  economy  of 
association,  and  familiarizing  the  public  mind  with  the  idea  of  asso 
ciation — an  idea  susceptible  of  a  thousand  applications,  and  capable, 
in  a  thousand  ways,  of  alleviating  and  preventing  human  woes. 
We  see  its  perfect  triumph  in  Insurance,  whereby  a  loss  which 
would  crush  an  individual  falls  upon  the  whole  company  of  insur 
ers,  lightly  and  unperceived.  Future  ages  will  witness  its  success 
ful  application  to  most  of  the  affairs  of  life. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

THE  TRIBUNE'S  SECOND  TEAR. 

Increase  of  price— The  Tribune  offends  the  Sixth  Ward  fighting-men— The  office  threat 
ened—Novel  preparations  for  defense--Charles  Dickens  defended  — The  Editor 
travels— Visits  Washington,  and  sketches  the  Senators— At  Mount  Vernon— At 
Niagara— A  hard  hit  at  Major  Noah. 

THE  Tribune,  as  we  have  seen,  was  started  as  a  penny  paper.  It 
began  its  second  volume,  on  the  eleventh  of  April,  1842,  at  the  in 
creased  price  of  nine  cents  a  week,  or  two  cents  for  a  single  num- 
oer,  and  effected  this  serious  advance  without  losing  two  hundred 
of  its  twelve  thousand  subscribers.  At  the  same  time,  Messrs.  Gree- 
ley  and  McElrath  started  the  4  American  Laborer,'  a  monthly  maga- 
tine,  devoted  chiefly  to  the  advocacy  of  Protection.  It  was  pub 
lished  at  seventy-five  cents  for  the  twelve  numbers  which  the  pros 
pectus  announced. 

When  it  was  remarked,  a  few  pages  back,  that  the  word  with  the 
Tribune  was  FIGHT,  no  allusion  was  intended  to  the  use  of  carnal 
weapons.  u  The  pen  is  mightier  than  the  sword,"  claptraps  Bulwer 
in  one  of  his  plays ;  and  the  Pen  was  the  only  fighting  implement 


218 

referred  to.  It  came  to  pass,  however,  in  the  first  month  of  the 
Tribune's  second  year,  that  the  pointed  nib  of  the  warlike  journal 
gave  deadty  umbrage  to  certain  fighting  men  of  the  Sixth  Ward,  by 
exposing  their  riotous  conduct  on  the  day  of  the  Spring  elections. 
The  office  was,  in  consequence,  threatened  by  the  offended  parties 
with  a  nocturnal  visit,  and  the  office,  alive  to  the  duty  of  hospital 
ity,  prepared  to  give  the  expected  guests  a  suitable  reception  by 
arming  itself  to  the  chimneys. 

This  (I  believe)  was  one  of  the  paragraphs  deemed  most  offen 
sive  : 

"  It  appears  that  some  of  the  '  Spartan  Band,'  headed  by  Michael  Walsh, 
after  a  fight  in  the  -1th  District  of  the  Sixth  Ward,  paraded  up  Centre  street, 
opposite  the  Halls  of  Justice,  to  the  neighborhood  of  the  poll  of  the  3d  Dis 
trict,  where,  after  marching  and  counter-marching,  the  leader  Walsh  re-com 
menced  the  work  of  violence  by  knocking  down  an  unoffending  individual,  who 
vras  following  near  him.  This  was  the  signal  for  a  general  attack  of  this  band 
upon  the  Irish  population,  who  were  knocked  down  in  every  direction,  until  the 
street  was  literally  strewed  with  their  prostrate  bodies.  After  this  demonstra 
tion  of  '  Spartan  valor,'  the  Irish  fled,  and  the  band  moved  on  to  another  poll 
to  re-enact  their  deeds  of  violence.  In  the  interim  the  Irish  proceeded  to  rally 
their  forces,  and,  armed  with  sticks  of  cord- wood  and  clubs,  paraded  through 
Centre  street,  about  300  strong,  attacking  indiscriminately  and  knocking  down 
nearly  all  who  came  in  their  way — some  of  their  victims,  bruised  and  bloody, 
having  to  be  carried  into  the  Police  Office  and  the  prison,  to  protect  them  from 
being  murdered.  A  portion  of  the  Irish  then  dispersed,  while  another  portion 
proceeded  to  a  house  in  Orange  street,  which  they  attacked  and  riddled  from 
top  to  bottom.  Re-uniting  their  scattered  forces,  the  Irish  bands  again,  with 
increased  numbers,  marched  up  Centre  street,  driving  all  before  them,  and 
when  near  the  Halls  of  Justice,  the  cry  was  raised,  '  Americans,  stand  firm  !' 
when  a  body  of  nearly  a  thousand  voters  surrounded  the  Irish  bands,  knocked 
them  down,  and  beat  them  without  mercy — while  some  of  the  fallen  Irishmen 
were  with  difficulty  rescued  from  the  violence  that  would  have  destroyed 
them,  had  they  not  been  hurried  into  the  Police  Office  and  prison  as  a  place  of 
refuge.  In  this  encounter,  or  the  one  that  preceded  it,  a  man  named  Ford, 
and  said  k  be  one  of  the  'Spartans,'  was  carried  into  the  Police  Office  beaten 
almost  to  death,  and  was  subsequently  transferred  to  the  Hospital." 

On  the  morning  of  the  day  on  -which  this  appeared,  two  gentle 
men,  more  muscular  than  civil,  called  at  the  office  to  say,  that  the 
Tribune's  account  of  the  riot  was  incorrect,  and  did  injustice  to 


THE    OFFICE    THREATENED.  219 

Individuals,  who  expected  to  see  a  retraction  on  the  following  day. 
No  retraction  appeared  on  the  following  day,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
a  fuller  and  more  emphatic  repetition  of  the  charge.  The  next 
morning,  the  office  was  favored  by  a  second  visit  from  the  muscular 
gentlemen.  One  of  them  seized  a  clerk  by  the  shoulder,  and  re 
quested  to  be  informed  whether  Tie  was  the  offspring  of  a  female 
dog  who  had  put  that  into  the  paper,  pointing  to  the  offensive  arti 
cle.  The  clerk  protested  his  innocence;  and  the  men  of  muscle 
swore,  that,  whoever  put  it  in,  if  the  next  paper  did  not  do  them  jus 
tice,  the  Bloody  Sixth  would  come  down  and  'smash  the  office.' 
The  Tribune  of  the  next  day  contained  a  complete  history  of  the 
riot,  and  denounced  its  promoters  with  more  vehemence  than  on 
the  days  preceding.  The  Bloody  Sixth  was  ascertained  to  be  in  a 
ferment,  and  the  office  prepared  itself  for  defense. 

One  of  the  compositors  was  a  member  of  the  City  Guard,  and 
through  his  interest,  the  muskets  of  that  admired  company  of  citi 
zen  soldiers  were  procured ;  as  soon  as  the  evening  shades  pre 
vailed,  they  were  conveyed  to  the  office,  and  distributed  among 
the  men.  One  of  the  muskets  was  placed  near  the  desk  of  the  Ed 
itor,  who  looked  up  from  his  writing  and  said,  he  '  guessed  they 
would  n't  come  down,'  and  resumed  his  work.  The  foreman  of  the 
press-room  in  the  basement  caused  a  pipe  to  be  conveyed  from  the 
safety  valve  of  the  boiler  to  the  steps  that  led  up  to  the  sidewalk. 
The  men  in  the  Herald  office,  near  by,  made  common  cause,  for 
this  occasion  only,  with  their  foemen  of  the  Tribune,  and  agreed, 
on  the  first  alarm,  to  rush  through  the  sky-light  to  the  flat  roof,  and 
rain  down  on  the  heads  of  the  Bloody  Sixth  a  shower  of  brick-bats 
to  be  procured  from  the  surrounding  chimneys.  It  was  thought, 
that  what  with  volleys  of  musketry  from  the  upper  windows,  a 
storm  of  bricks  from  the  roof,  and  a  blast  of  hot  steam  from  the 
cellar,  the  Bloody  Sixth  would  soon  have  enough  of  smashing  the 
Tribune  office.  The  men  of  the  allied  offices  waited  for  the  expect 
ed  assault  with  the  most  eager  desire.  At  twelve  o'clock,  the  part 
ners  made  a  tour  of  inspection,  and  expressed  their  perfect  satisfac 
tion  with  all  the  arrangements.  But,  unfortunately  for  the  story, 
the  night  wore  away,  the  paper  went  to  press,  morning  dawned, 
and  yet  the  Bloody  Sixth  had  not  appeared!  Either  the  Bloody 
Sixth  had  thought  better  of  it,  or  the  men  of  muscle  had  hac3  no 


220 

right  to  speak  in  its  awful  name.  From  whatever  cause — these 
masterly  preparations  were  made  in  vain;  and  the  Tribune  went  on 
its  belligerent  way,  unsmashed.  For  some  weeks,  4  it  kept  at '  the 
election  frauds,  and  made  a  complete  exposure  of  the  guilty  persons. 

Let  us  glance  hastily  over  the  rest  of  the  volume. 

It  was  the  year  of  Charles  Dickens'  visit  to  the  United  States. 
The  Tribune  ridiculed  the  extravagant  and  unsuitable  honors  paid 
to  the  amiable  novelist,  but  spoke  strongly  in  favor  of  international 
copyright,  which  Mr.  Dickens  made  it  his  'mission'  to  advocate. 
"When  the  4  American  Notes  for  General  Circulation '  appeared,  tho 
Tribune  was  one  of  the  few  papers  that  gave  it  a  '  favorable  notice.' 
44  We  have  read  the  hook,"  said  the  Tribune,  "  very  carefully,  and 
we  are  forced  to  say,  in  the  face  of  all  this  stormy  denunciation, 
that,  so  far  as  its  tone  toward  this  country  is  concerned,  it  is  one 
of  the  very  best  works  of  its  class  we  have  ever  seen.  There  is  not 
a  sentence  it  which  seems  to  have  sprung  from  ill-nature  or  con 
tempt;  not  a  word  of  censure  is  uttered  for  its  own  sake  or  in 
a  fault-finding  spirit ;  the  whole  is  a  calm,  judicious,  gentlemanly, 
unexceptionable  record  of  what  the  writer  saw — and  a  candid  and 
correct  judgment  of  its  worth  and  its  defects.  How  a  writer  could 
look  upon  the  broadly-blazoned  and  applauded  slanders  of  his  own 
land  which  abound  in  this — how  he  could  run  through  the  pages  of 
LESTER'S  book — filled  to  the  margin  with  the  grossest,  most  un 
founded  and  illiberal  assaults  upon  all  the  institutions  and  the  social 
phases  of  Great  Britain — and  then  write  so  calmly  of  this  country, 
with  so  manifest  a  freedom  from  passion  and  prejudice,  as  DICK- 
KNS  has  done,  is  to  us  no  slight  marvel.  That  he  has  done  it  is 
infinitely  to  his  credit,  and  confirms  us  in  the  opinion  we  had  long 
since  formed  of  the  soundness  of  his  head  and  the  goodness  of  his 
heart." 

In  the  summer  of  1842,  Mr.  Greeley  made  an  extensive  tour,  visit 
ing  Washington,  Mount  Yernon,  Poultney,  Westhaven,  London 
derry,  Niagara,  and  the  home  of  his  parents  in  Pennsylvania,  from 
all  of  which  he  wrote  letters  to  the  Tribune.  His  letters  from 
Washington,  entitled  'Glances  at  the  Senate,'  gave  agreeable 
sketches  of  Calhoun,  Preston,  Benton,  Evans,  Crittenden,  Wright, 
and  others.  Silas  Wright  he  thought  the  'keenest  logician  in  the 
Senate,'  the  'Ajax  o'  plausibility,'  the  'Talleyrand  of  tbe  forum.1' 


VISITS   NIAGARA.  221 

Calhoun  he  descriled  as  the  lcompactest  speaker' in  the  Senate; 
Preston,  as  the  4  most  forcible  declaimer ;'  Evans,  as  the  *  most  dex 
terous  and  diligent  legislator ;'  Benton,  as  an  individual,  "  gross  and 
burly  in  person,  of  countenance  most  unintellectual,  in  manner  pom 
pous  and  inflated,  in  matter  empty,  in  conceit  a  giant,  in  influence 
a  cipher !" 

From  Mount  Vernon,  Mr.  Greeley  wrote  an  interesting  letter, 
chiefly  descriptive.  It  concluded  thus:— "Slowly,  pensively,  we 
turned  our  faces  from  the  rest  of  the  mighty  dead  to  the  turmoil  of 
the  restless  living — from  the  solemn,  sublime  repose  of  Mount  Ver 
non  to  the  ceaseless  iningues,  the  petty  strifes,  the  ant-hill  bustle  of 
the  Federal  City.  Each  has  its  own  atmosphere ;  London  and 
Mecca  are  not  so  unlike  as  they.  The  silent,  enshrouding  woods, 
the  gleaming,  majestic  river,  the  bright,  benignant  sky — it  is  fitly 
here,  amid  the  scenes  he  loved  and  hallowed,  that  the  man  whose 
life  and  character  have  redeemed  Patriotism  and  Liberty  from  the 
reproach  which  centuries  of  designing  knavery  and  hollow  profess 
ion  nad  cast  upon  them,  now  calmly  awaits  the  trump  of  the  arch 
angel.  Who  does  not  rejoice  that  the  original  design  of  removing 
his  ashes  to  the  city  has  never  been  consummated — that  they  lie 
where  the  pilgrim  may  reverently  approach  them,  unvexed  by  the 
7.ight  laugh  of  the  time-killing  worldling,  unannoyed  by  the  vain  or 
vile  scribblings  of  the  thoughtless  or  the  base?  Thus  may  they 
repose  forever !  that  the  heart  of  the  patriot  may  be  invigorated, 
tl>e  hopes  of  the  philanthropist  strengthened  and  his  aims  exalted, 
the  pulse  of  the  American  quickened  and  his  aspirations  purified  by 
a  visit  to  Mount  Vernon !" 

From  Niagara,  the  traveller  wrote  a  letter  to  Graham's  Magazine : 

"  Years,"  said  he,  '  though  not  many,  have  weighed  upon  me  since  first,  in 
boyhood,  I  gazed  from  the  deck  of  a  canal-boat  upon  the  distant  cloud  of  white 
vapor  which  marked  the  position  of  the  world  s  great  cataract,  and  listened  to 
catch  the  rumbling  of  its  deep  thunders.  Circumstances  did  not  then  permit  me 
to  gratify  my  strong  desire  of  visiting  it ;  and  now,  when  I  am  tempted  to  won 
der  at  the  stolidity  of  those  who  live  within  a  day's  journey,  yet  live  on 
through  half  a  century  without  one  glance  at  the  mighty  torrent,  I  am 
checked  by  the  reflection  that  I  myself  passed  within  a  dozen  miles  of  it  no 
less  than  five  times  before  I  was  able  to  enjoy  its  magnificence.  The  propi 
tious  hour  cam<»  at  last,  however ;  and,  after  a  disappointed  gaze  from  the 


222 

upper  terrace  on  the  British  side,  (in  which  I  half  feared  that  the  sheet  of 
broken  and  boiling  water  above  was  all  the  cataract  that  existed,)  and  rapid 
tortuous  descent  by  the  woody  declivity,  I  stood  at  length  on  Table  Rock,  and 
the  whole  immensity  of  the  tremendous  avalanche  of  waters  burst  at  once  on 
my  arrested  vision,  while  awe  struggled  with  amazement  for  the  mastery  of 
my  soul. 

"  This  was  late  in  October ;  I  have  twice  visited  the  scene  amid  the  freshness 
and  beauty  of  June  ;  but  I  think  the  late  Autumn  is  by  far  the  better  season. 
There  is  then  a  sternness  in  the  sky,  a  plaintive  melancholy  in  the  sighing  of 
the  wind  through  the  mottled  forest  foliage,  which  harmonizes  better  with  the 
spirit  of  the  scene;  for  the  Genius  of  Niagara,  0  friend!  is  never  a  laughter- 
loving  spirit.  For  the  gaudy  vanities,  the  petty  pomps,  the  light  follies  of  the 
hour,  he  has  small  sympathy.  Let  not  the  giddy  heir  bring  here  his  ingots, 
the  selfish  aspirant  his  ambition,  the  libertine  his  victim,  and  hope  to  find 
enjoyment  and  gaiety  in  the  presence.  Let  none  come  here  to  nurse  his  pride, 
or  avarice,  or  any  other  low  desire.  God  and  His  handiwork  here  stand  forth 
in  lone  sublimity ;  and  all  the  petty  doings  and  darings  of  the  ants  »t  the 
base  of  the  pyramid  appear  in  their  proper  insignificance.  Few  can  have 
visited  Niagara  and  left  it  no  humbler,  no  graver  than  they  came." 

On  his  return  to  the  city,  Horace  Greeley  subsided,  with  curious 
abruptness,  into  the  editor  of  the  Tribune.  This  note  appears  on 
the  morning  after  his  arrival : 

"  The  senior  editor  of  this  paper  has  returned  to  his  post,  after  an  absence 
of  four  weeks,  during  which  he  has  visited  nearly  one  half  of  the  counties  of 
this  State,  and  passed  through  portions  of  Pennsylvania,  Vermont,  Massachu 
setts,  etc.  During  this  time  he  has  written  little  for  the  Tribune  save  the 
casual  and  hasty  letters  to  which  his  initials  were  subscribed ;  but  it  need 
hardly  be  said  that  the  general  course  and  conduct  of  the  paper  have  been  the 
same  as  if  he  had  been  at  his  post. 

"  Two  deductions  only  from  the  observations  he  has  made  and  the  information 
he  has  gathered  during  his  tour,  will  here  be  given.  They  are  these : 

"  1.  The  cause  of  Protection  to  Home  Industry  is  much  stronger  throughout 
this  and  the  adjoining  States  than  even  the  great  party  which  mainly  up 
holds  it;  and  nothing  will  so  much  tend  to  ensure  the  election  of  Henry  Clay 
next  President  as  the  veto  of  an  efficient  Tariff  bill  by  John  Tyler. 

"  2.  The  strength  of  the  Whig  party  is  unbroken  by  recent  disasters  and 
treachery,  and  only  needs  the  proper  opportunity  to  manifest  itself  in  all  the 
energy  and  power  of  1840.  If  a  distinct  and  unequivocal  issue  can  be  made 
upon  the  great  leading  questions  at  issue  between  the  rival  parties — on  Pro 
tection  to  Home  Industry  and  Internal  Improvement — the  Whig  ascendency 
will  be  triumphantly  vindicated  in  the  coming  election." 


A   HARD    HIT    AT    MAJOR    NOAH.  223 

I  need  not  dwell  on  the  politics  of  that  year.  For  Protection-  - 
for  Clay— against  Tyler — against  his  vetoes — for  a  law  to  punish  se 
ductiou — against  capital  punishment — imagine  countless  columns. 

In  October,  died  Dr.  Channing.  "  Deeply,"  wrote  Mr.  Greeley, 
"  do  we  deplore  his  loss,  most  untimely,  to  the  faithless  eye  of  man 
does  it  seem — to  the  cause  of  truth,  of  order  and  of  right,  and  still 
more  deeply  do  we  lament  that  he  has  left  behind  him,  in  the  same 
department  of  exertion,  so  few,  in  proportion  to  the  number  needed, 
to  supply  the  loss  occasioned  by  his  death."  Soon  after,  the  Tri 
bune  gave  Theodore  Parker  a  hearing  by  publishing  sketches  of  his 
lectures. 

An  affair  of  a  personal  nature  made  considerable  noise  about  this 
time,  which  is  worth  alluding  to,  for  several  reasons.  Major  Noah, 
then  the  editor  of  the  i  Union,'  a  Tylerite  paper  of  small  circula 
tion  and  irritable  temper,  was  much  addicted  to  attacks  on  the  Tri 
bune.  On  this  occasion,  he  was  unlucky  enough  to  publish  a  ri 
diculous  story,  to  the  effect  that  Horace  Greeley  had  taken  his 
breakfast  in  company  with  two  colored  men  at  a  boarding-house  in 
Barclay  street.  The  story  was  eagerly  copied  by  the  enemies  of  the 
Tribune,  and  at  length  Horace  Greeley  condescended  to  notice  it. 
The  point  of  his  most  happy  and  annihilating  reply  is  contained  in 
these,  its  closing  sentences:  "We  have  never  associated  with 
blacks ;  never  eaten  with  them ;  and  yet  it  is  quite  probable  that  if 
we  had  seen  two  cleanly,  decent  colored  persons  sitting  down  at  a 
second  table  in  another  room  just  as  we  were  finishing  our  break 
fast,  we  might  have  gone  away  without  thinking  or  caring  about 
the  matter.  We  choose  our  own  company  in  all  things,  and  that 
of  our  own  race,  but  cherish  little  of  that  spirit  which  for  eighteen 
centuries  has  held  the  kindred  of  M.  M.  Noah  accursed  of  God  and 
man,  outlawed  and  outcast,  and  unfit  to  be  the  associates  of  Chris 
tians,  Mussulmen,  or  even  self-respecting  Pagans.  Where  there  are 
thousands  who  would  not  eat  with  a  negro,  there  are  (or  lately 
were)  tens  of  thousands  who  would  not  eat  with  a  Jew.  We  leave 
to  such  renegadee  as  the  Judge  of  Israel  the  stirring  up  of  prejudices 
and  the  prating  of  '  usages  of  society,'  which  over  half  the  world 
make  him  an  abhorrence,  as  they  not  long  since  would  have  done 
here;  we  treat  all  men  according  to  what  they  are  and  not 
whence  they  spring.  That  he  is  a  knave,  we  think  much  to  his  dis- 


224  THE    TRIBUNE   AND   J.  FENIMORE    COOPEll. 

credit ;  that  he  is  a  Jew  nothing,  however  unfortunate  it  may  be 
for  that  luckless  people."  This  was  a  hit  not  more  hard  than  fair. 
The  '  Judge  of  Israel,'  it  is  said,  felt  it  acutely. 

The  Tribune  continued  to  prosper.  It  ended  the  second  volume 
with  a  circulation  of  twenty  thousand,  and  an  advertising  patron 
age  so  extensive  as  to  compel  the  issue  of  frequent  supplements. 
The  position  of  its  chief  editor  grew  in  importance.  His  advice  and 
co-operation  were  sought  by  so  many  person?  and  for  so  many  ob 
jects,  that  h«  was  obliged  to  keep  a  notice  standing,  which  request 
ed  u  all  who  would  see  him  personally  in  his  office,  to  call  between 
the  hours  of  8  and  9  A.  M.,  and  5  and  6  P.  M.,  unless  the  most  im 
perative  necessity  dictate  a  different  hour.  If  this  notice  be  dis 
regarded,  he  will  be  compelled  to  abandon  bis  office  and  seek  else 
where  a  cbance  for  an  hour's  uninterrupted  devotion  to  his  daily 
duties." 

His  first  set  lecture  in  New  York  is  thus  announced,  January 
3d,  1843  :  "Horace  Greeley  will  lecture  before  the  New  York  Ly 
ceum  at  the  Tabernacle,  this  evening.  Subject, '  Human  Life.'  The 
lecture  will  commence  at  half  past  7,  precisely.  If  those  who  care 
to  hear  it  will  sit  near  the  desk,  they  will  favor  the  lecturer's  weak 
and  husky  voice." 


CHAPTER    XYIIL 

THE  TRIBUNE  AND  J.  FENIMORE  COOPER. 

The  libel— Horace  Greetey's  narrative  of  the  trial— He  reviews  the  opening  speech  o4 
Mr.  Cooper's  counsel— A  striking  illustration — He  addresses  the  jury— *!r.  Cooper 
sums  up — Horace  Greeley  comments  on  the  speech  of  tbe  novelist — In  doing  so  he 
perpetrates  new  libels— The  verdict— Mr.  Greeley's  remarks  on  the  same-  Strikes 
a  bee-line  for  New  York — A  new  sn:t — An  imaginary  case. 

A  MAN  is  never  so  characteristic  as  when  he  sports.  There  was 
something  in  the  warfare  waged  by  the  author  of  the  Leatherstock- 
ing  against  the  press,  and  particularly  in  his  suit  of  the  Tribune  for 
libel,  that  appealed  so  strongly  to  Horace  Greeley's  sense  of  the 


THE    LIBEL    ON   J.  FENIMORE   COOPER.  £25 

comic,  that  he  seldom  allnded  to  it  without,  apparent! y,  falling  into 
a  paroxysm  of  mirth.  Some  of  his  most  humorous  passages  were 
written  in  connection  with  what  he  called  '  the  Cooperage  of  the 
Tribune.'  To  that  affair,  therefore,  it  is  proper  that  a  short  chapter 
should  be  devoted,  before  pursuing  further  the  History  of  the 
Tribune. 

The  matter  alleged  to  be  libelous  appeared  in  the  Tribune,  Nov. 
17th,  1841.  The  trial  took  place  at  Saratoga,  Dec.  9th,  1842.  Mr. 
Greeley  defended  the  suit  in  person,  and,  on  returning  to  New  York, 
wrote  a  long  and  ludicrous  account  of  the  trial,  which  occupied 
eleven  columns  and  a  quarter  in  the  Tribune  of  Dec.  12th.  For 
that  number  of  the  paper  there  was  such  a  demand,  that  the  ac 
count  of  the  trial  was,  soon  after,  re-published  in  a  pamphlet,  of 
which  this  chapter  will  be  little  more  than  a  condensation. 

The  libel — such  as  it  was — the  reader  may  find  lurking  in  the 
following  epistle : 

"  MR.  FENIMORE  COOPER  AND  HIS  LIBELS. 

"  FONDA,  Nov.  17,  1841. 
"  To  THE  EDITOR  OF  THE  TRIBUNE  : — 

"  The  Circuit  Court  now  sitting  here  is  to  be  occupied  chiefly  with  the  legal 
griefs  of  Mr.  Fenitnore  Cooper,  who  has  determined  to  avenge  himself  upon 
the  Press  for  having  contributed  by  its  criticisms  to  his  waning  popularity  as 
a  novelist. 

"  The  '  handsome  Mr.  Effingham'  has  three  cases  of  issue  here,  two  of  which 
are  against  Col.  Webb,  Editor  of  the  Courier  and  Enquirer,  and  one  against 
Mr.  Weed,  Editor  of  the  Albany  Evening  Journal. 

"  Mr.  Weed  not  appearing  on  Monday,  (the  first  day  of  court,)  Cooper  mov 
ed  for  judgment  by  default,  as  Mr.  Weed's  counsel  had  not  arrived.  Col. 
Webb,  who  on  passing  through  Albany,  called  at  Mr.  Weed's  house,  and 
learned  that  his  wife  was  seriously  and  his  daughter  dangerously  ill,  request 
ed  Mr.  Sacia  to  state  the  facts  to  the  Court,  and  ask  a  day's  delay.  Mr.  Sacia 
made,  at  the  same  time,  an  appeal  to  Mr.  Cooper's  humanity.  But  that  appeal, 
of  course,  was  an  unavailing  one.  The  novelist  pushed  his  advantage.  The 
Court,  however,  ordered  the  cause  to  go  over  till  the  next  day,  with  the  un 
derstanding  that  the  default  should  be  entered  then  if  Mr.  Weed  did  not  ap 
pear.  Col.  Webb  then  despatched  a  messenger  to  Mr.  Weed  with  this  infor 
mation.  The  messenger  returned  with  a  letter  from  Mr.  Weed,  stating  that 
his  daughter  lay  very  ill,  and  that  he  would  not  leave  her  while  she  was  suf 
fering  or  in  danger  Mr.  Cooper,  therefore,  immediately  moved  for  his  default. 
Mr.  Sacia  interposed  again  for  time,  but  it  was  denied.  A  jury  was  empan- 

10* 


226        THE  TRIBUNE  AND  J.  FENIMORE  COOPER. 

eled  to  assess  Mr.  Effingham's  damages.  The  trial,  of  course,  was  ex-parte, 
Mr.  Weed  being  absent  and  defenceless.  Cooper's  lawyer  made  a  wordy, 
windy,  abusive  appeal  for  exemplary  damages.  The  jury  retired,  under  a 
strong  charge  against  Mr.  Weed  from  Judge  Willard,  and  after  remaining  in 
their  room  till  twelve  o'clock  at  night,  sealed  a  verdict  for  $400  for  Mr.  Effing- 
harn,  which  was  delivered  to  the  Court  this  morning. 

"  This  meager  verdict,  under  the  circumstanses,  is  a  severe  and  mortifying 
rebuke  to  Cooper,  who  had  everything  his  own  way. 

"  The  value  of  Mr.  Cooper's  character,  therefore,  has  been  judicially  ascer 
tained. 

"  It  is  worth  exactly  four  hundred  dollars. 

"  Col.  Webb's  trial  comes  on  this  afternoon ;  his  counsel,  A.L.  Jordan,  Esq., 
having  just  arrived  in  the  up  train.  Cooper  will  be  blown  sky  high.  This 
experiment  upon  the  Editor  of  the  Courier  and  Enquirer,  I  predict,  will  cure 
the  '  handsome  Mr.  Effingham'  of  his  monomania  for  libels." 

The  rest  of  the  story  shall  he  given  here  in  Mr.  Greeley's  own 
words.  He  begins  the  narrative  thus  : — 

"  The  responsible  Editor  of  the  Tribune  returned  yesterday  morning  from  a 
week's  journey  to  and  sojourn  in  the  County  of  Saratoga,  having  been  thereto 
urgently  persuaded  by  a  Supreme  Court  writ,  requiring  him  to  answer  to  tho 
declaration  of  Mr.  J.  Fenimore  Cooper  in  an  action  for  Libel. 

"  This  suit  was  originally  to  have  been  tried  at  the  May  Circuit  at  Ballston  ; 
but  neither  Fenimore  (who  was  then  engaged  in  the  Coopering  of  Col.  Stone 
of  the  Commercial)  nor  we  had  time  to  attend  to  it — so  it  went  over  to  this 
term,  which  opened  at  Ballston  Spa  en  Monday,  Dec.  5th.  We  arrived  on 
the  ground  at  eleven  o'clock  of  that  day,  and  found  the  plaintiff  and  his 
lawyers  ready  for  us,  our  case  No.  10  on  the  calendar,  and  of  course  a  good 
prospect  of  an  early  trial ;  but  an  important  case  involving  Water-rights  came 
in  ahead  of  us  (No.  8)  taking  two  days,  and  it  was  half-past  10,  A.M.,  of 
Friday,  before  ours  was  reached — very  fortunately  for  us,  as  we  had  no  lawyer, 
had  never  talked  over  the  case  with  one,  or  made  any  preparation  whatever, 
save  in  thought,  and  had  not  even  found  time  to  read  the  papers  pertaining 
to  it  till  we  arrived  at  Ballston. 

"  The  delay  in  reaching  the  case  gave  us  time  for  all ;  and  that  we  did  not 
employ  lawyers  to  aid  in  our  conduct  or  defense  proceeded  from  no  want  of 
confidence  in  or  deference  to  the  many  eminent  members  of  the  Bar  there  in 
attendance,  beside  Mr.  Cooper's  three  able  counsel,  but  simply  from  the  fact 
that  we  wished  to  present  to  the  Court  some  considerations  which  we  thought 
had  been  overlooked  >r  overborne  in  the  recent  Trials  of  the  Press  for  Libel 
before  our  Supreme  and  Circuit  Courts,  and  which,  since  they  appealed  more 
directly  and  forcibly  to  the  experience  of  Editors  than  of  Lawyers,  we  pro- 


eumed  an  ordinary  editor  might  present  as  plainly  and  fully  as  an  able  law 
yer.  We  wished  to  place  before  the  Court  and  the  country  those  views  which 
we  understand  the  Press  to  maintain  with  us  of  its  own  position,  duties, 
responsibilities,  and  rights,  as  affected  by  the  practical  construction  given  of 
late  years  in  this  State  to  the  Law  of  Libel,  and  its  application  to  editors  and 
journals.  Understanding  that  we  could  not  appear  both  in  person  and  by 
counsel,  we  chose  the  former;  though  on  trial  we  found  our  opponent  was  per 
mitted  to  do  what  we  supposed  we  could  not.  So  much  by  way  of  explana 
tion  to  the  many  able  and  worthy  lawyers  in  attendance  on  the  Circuit,  from 
whom  we  received  every  kindness,  who  would  doubtless  have  aided  us  most 
cheerfully  if  we  had  required  it,  and  would  have  conducted  our  case  far  more 
skillfully  than  we  either  expected  or  cared  to  do.  We  had  not  appeared  there 
to  be  saved  from  a  verdict  by  any  nice  technicality  or  legal  subtlety. 

"  The  ease  was  opened  to  the  Court  and  Jury  by  Richard  Cooper,  nephew 
and  attorney  of  the  plaintiff,  in  a  speech  of  decided  pertinence  and  force. 
*  *  *  Mr.  R.  Cooper  has  had  much  experience  in  this  class  of  cases,  and 
is  a  young  man  of  considerable  talent.  His  manner  is  the  only  fault  about 
him,  being  too  elaborate  and  pompous,  and  his  diction  too  bombastic  to  pro 
duce  the  best  effect  on  an  unsophisticated  auditory.  If  he  will  only  contrive 
to  correct  this,  he  will  yet  make  a  figure  at  the  Bar — or  rather,  he  will  make 
less  figure  and  do  more  execution.  The  force  of  his  speech  was  marred  by 
Fenhnore's  continually  interrupting  to  dictate  and  suggest  to  him  ideas  when 
he  would  have  done  much  better  if  left  alone.  For  instance  :  Fenimore  in 
structed  him  to  say,  that  our  letter  from  Fonda  above  recited  purported  to  be 
from  the  '  correspondent  of  the  Tribune,'  and  thence  to  draw  and  press  on  the 
Jury  the  inference  that  the  letter  was  written  by  some  of  our  own  corps^  whom 
we  had  sent  to  Fonda  to  report  these  trials.  This  inference  we  were  obliged 
to  repel  in  our  reply,  by  showing  that  the  article  plainly  read  '  correspondence 
of  the  Tribune,4  just  as  when  a  fire,  a  storm,  or  some  other  notable  event 
occurs  in  any  part  of  the  country  or  world,  and  a  friend  who  happens  to  be 
there,  sits  down  and  dispatches  us  a  letter  by  the  first  mail  to  give  us  early 
advices,  though  he  has  no  connection  with  us  but  by  subscription  and  good 
will,  and  perhaps  never  wrote  a  line  to  us  in  his  life  till  now. 

********* 

"The  next  step  in  Mr.  R. Cooper's  opening:  We  had,  to  the  Declaration 
against  us,  pleaded  the  General  Issue — that  is  Not  Guilty  of  libeling  Mr. 
Cooper,  at  the  same  time  fully  admitting  that  we  had  published  all  that  he 
called  our  libels  on  him,  and  desiring  to  put  in  issue  only  the  fact  of  their 
being  or  not  being  libels,  and  have  the  verdict  turn  on  that  issua.  But  Mr. 
Cooper  told  the  Jury  (and  we  found,  to  our  cost,  that  this  was  New  York  Su 
preme  and  Circuit  Court  law)  that  by  pleading  Not  Gruilty  we  had  legally  ad 
mitted  ourselves  to  be  Guilty — that  all  that  was  necessary  for  the  plaintiff 
under  that  plea  was  to  put  in  our  admission  of  publication,  and  then  the  Jury 


228  THE    TRIBUNE    AND   J.    FENIMORE    COOPEU. 

had  nothing  to  do  but  to  assess  the  plaintiffs  damages  under  the  direction  of 
the  Court.  In  short,  we  were  made  to  understand  that  there  was  no  way  un 
der  Heaven — we  beg  pardon;  under  New  York  Supreme  Court  Law — in  which 
the  editor  of  a  newspaper  could  plead  to  an  action  for  libel  that  the  matter 
charged  upon  him  as  libelous  was  not  in  its  nature  or  intent  a  libel,  but  sim 
ply  a  statement,  according  to  the  best  of  his  knowledge  and  belief,  of  some 
notorious  and  every  way  public  transaction,  <r  his  own  honest  comments 
thereon;  and  ask  the  Jury  to  decide  whether  the  plaintiff's  averment  or  his 
answers  thereto  be  the  truth  !  To  illustrate  the  beauties  of  'the  perfection 
of  human  reason  ' — always  intending  New  York  Circuit  and  Supreme  Court 
reason — on  this  subject,  and  to  show  the  perfect  soundness  and  pertinence  of 
Mr.  Cooper's  logic  according  to  the  decisions  of  these  Courts,  we  will  give  an 
example . 

"Our  police  reporter,  say  this  evening,  shall  bring  in  on  his  chronicle  of 
daily  occurrences  the  following  : 

"  '  A  hatchet-faced  chap,  with  mouse-colored  whiskers,  who  gave  the  name 
of  John  Smith,  was  brought  in  by  a  watchman  who  found  him  lying  drunk  in 
the  gutter.  After  a  suitable  admonition  from  the  Justice,  and  on  payment  of 
the  usual  fine,  he  was  discharged.' 

"  Now,  our  reporter,  who,  no  more  than  we,  ever  before  heard  of  this  John 
Smith,  is  only  ambitious  to  do  his  duty  correctly  and  thoroughly,  to  make  his  de 
scription  accurate  and  graphic,  and  perhaps  to  protect  better  men  who  rejoice 
in  the  cognomen  of  John  Smith,  from  being  confounded  with  this  one  in  the 
popular  rumor  of  his  misadventure.  If  the  paragraph  should  come  under 
our  notice,  we  should  probably  strike  it  out  altogether,  as  relating  to  a  subject 
of  no  public  moment,  and  likely  to  crowd  out  better  matter.  But  we  do  not 
see  it,  and  in  it  goes  :  Well :  John  Smith,  who  '  acknowledges  the  corn '  as  to 
being  accidentally  drunk  and  getting  into  the  watch-house,  is  not  willing  to 
rest  under  the  imputation  of  being  hatched-faced  and  having  mouse-colored 
whiskers,  retains  Mr.  Richard  Cooper — for  he  could  not  do  better — and  com 
mences  an  action  for  libel  against  us.  We  take  the  best  legal  advice,  and  are 
told  that  we  must  demur  to  the  Declaration — that  is,  go  before  a  court  without 
jury,  where  no  facts  can  be  shown,  and  maintain  that  the  matter  charged  as 
uttered  by  us  is  not  libelous.  But  Mr.  R.  Cooper  meets  us  there  and  says  justly  : 
'How  ia  the  court  to  decide  without  evidence  that  this  matter  is  not  libelous  1 
If  it  was  written  and  inserted  for  the  express  purpose  of  ridiculing  and  bring 
ing  into  contempt  my  client,  it  clearly  is  libelous.  And  then  as  to  damages  : 
My  client  is  neither  rich  nor  a  great  man,  but  his  character,  in  his  own  circlt, 
is  both  dear  and  valuable  to  him.  We  shall  be  able  to  show  on  trial  that  he 
was  on  the  point  of  contracting  marriage  with  the  daughter  of  the  keeper  of 
the  most  fashionable  and  lucrative  oyster-cellar  in  Orange  street,  whose 
nerves  were  so  shocked  at  the  idea  of  her  intended  having  a  '  hatchet  face  and 
mouse-colored  whiskers,'  that  she  fainted  outright  on  reading  the  paragraph 


THE    OPENING   SPEECH    OF   MR.  COOPER*  S    COUNSEL.          229 

(copied  from  your  paper  into  the  next  day's  { Sun  '),  and  was  not  brought  to 
until  a  whole  bucket  of  oysters  which  she  had  just  opened  had  been  poured 
over  her  in  a  hurried  mistake  for  water.  Since  then,  she  has  frequent  relapses 
and  shuddering,  especially  when  my  client's  name  is  mentioned,  and  utterly 
refuses"  to  see  or  speak  of  him.  The  match  is  dead  broke,  and  my  client  loses 
thereby  a  capital  home,  where  victuals  are  more  plentiful  and  the  supply  more 
steady  than  it  has  been  his  fortune  to  find  them  for  the  last  year  or  two.  He 
loses,  with  all  this,  a  prospective  interest  in  the  concern,  and  is  left  utterly 
without  business  or  means  of  support  except  this  suit.  Besides,  how  can  you 
tell,  in  the  absence  of  all  testimony,  that  the  editor  was  not  paid  to  insert  this 
villanous  description  of  my  client,  by  some  envious  rival  for  the  affe-ctions  of 
the  oyster-maid,  who  calculates  both  to  gratify  his  spite  and  advance  his  lately 
hopeless  wooing  ?  In  that  case,  it  certainly  is  a  libel.  We  affirm  this  to  be 
the  case,  and  you  are  bound  to  presume  that  it  is.  The  demurrer  must  be 
overruled.'  And  so  it  must  be.  No  judge  could  decide  otherwise. 

"  Now  we  are  thrown  back  upon  a  dilemma  :  Either  we  must  plead  Justifica 
tion,  in  which  case  we  admit  that  our  publication  was  on  its  fact  a  libel ;  and 
now,  woe  to  us  if  we  cannot  prove  Mr.  Cooper's  client's  face  as  sharp,  and  his 
whiskers  of  the  precise  color  as  stated.  A  shade  more  or  less  ruins  us.  For,  be 
it  known,  by  attempting  a  Justification  we  have  not  merely  admitted  our  of 
fense  to  be  a  libel,  but  our  plea  is  an  aggravation  of  the  libel,  and  entitles  the 
plaintiff1  to  recover  higher  and  more  exemplary  damages.  But  we  have  just 
one  chance  more  :  to  plead  the  general  issue — to  wit,  that  we  did  not  libel  the 
said  John  Smith,  and  go  into  court  prepared  to  show  that  we  had  no  malice 
toward  or  intent  to  injure  Mr.  Smith,  never  heard  of  him  before,  and  have  done 
all  we  knew  how  to  make  him  reparation — in  short,  that  we  have  done  and  in 
tended  nothing  which  brings  us  fairly  within  the  iron  grasp  of  the  law  of  libel. 
But  here  again,  while  trying  our  best  to  get  in  somehow  a  plea  of  Not  Guilty, 
we  have  actually  pleaded  Guilty ! — so  says  the  Supreme  Court  law  of  New 
York — our  admitted  publication  (no  matter  of  what)  concerning  John  Smith 
proves  irresistibly  that  we  have  libeled  him — we  are  not  entitled  in  any  way 
whatever  to  go  to  the  Jury  with  evidence  tending  to  show  that  our  publication 
is  not  a  libel — or,  in  overthrow  of  the  legal  presumption  of  malice,  to  show 
that  there  actually  was  none.  All  that  we  possibly  can  offer  must  be  taken 
into  account  merely  in  mitigation  of  damages.  Our  hide  is  on  the  fence,  you 
see,  any  how. 

"  But  to  return  to  Richard's  argument  at  Ballston.  He  put  very  strongly 
against  us  the  fact  that  our  Fonda  correspondent  (see  Declaration  above)  con 
sidered  Fenirnore's  verdict  there  a  meager  one.  '  Gentlemen  of  the  jury,'  said 
ne,  '  see  how  these  editors  rejoice  and  exult  when  they  get  off  with  so  light  a 
verdict  as  $400  !  They  consider  it  a  triumph  over  the  law  and  the  defendant 
They  don't  consider  that  amount  anything.  If  you  mean  to  vindicate  the  lawc 
and  the  character  of  my  client,  you  see  you  must  give  much  more  than  this.; 


230  THE    TRIBUNE    AND    J.  FENIMOKE    COOPER. 

This  was  a  good  point,  but  not  quite  fair.  The  exultation  over  the  '  meager 
verdbt'  was  expressly  in  view  of  the  fact,  that  the  cause  was  undefended — that 
Fenimore  and  his  counsel  had  it  all  their  own  way,  evidence,  argument,  charge, 
and  all.  Still,  Richard  had  a  good  chance  here  to  appeal  for  a  large  verdict, 
and  he  did  it  well. 

<:  On  one  other  point  Richard  talked  more  like  a  cheap  lawyer  and  less  like 
a — like  what  we  had  expected  of  him — than  through  the  general  course  of  his 
argument.  In  his  pleadings,  he  had  set  forth  Horace  Greeley  and  Thomas  Mc- 
Elrath  as  Editors  and  Proprietors  of  the  Tribune,  and  we  readily  enough  ad 
mitted  whatever  he  chose  to  assert  about  us  except  the  essential  thing  in  dis 
pute  between  us.  Well,  on  the  strength  of  this  he  puts  it  to  the  Court  and 
Jury,  that  Thomas  McElrath  is  one  of  the  Editors  of  the  Tribune,  and  that 
be,  being  (having  been)  a  lawyer,  would  have  been  in  Court  to  defend  this 
suit,  if  there  was  any  valid  defense  to  be  made.  This,  of  course,  went  very 
hard  against  us  ;  and  it  was  to  no  purpose  that  we  informed  him  that  Thomas 
McElrath,  though  legally  implicated  in  it,  had  nothing  to  do  practically  with 
this  matter — (all  which  he  knew  very  well  long  before) — and  that  the  other 
defendant  is  the  man  who  does  whatever  libeling  is  done  in  the  Tribune,  and 
holds  himself  everywhere  responsible  for  it.  We  presume  there  is  not  much 
doubt  even  so  far  off  as  Cooperstown  as  to  who  edits  the  Tribune,  and  who 
wrote  the  editorial  about  the  Fonda  business.  (In  point  of  fact,  the  real  and 
palpable  defendant  in  this  suit  never  even  conversed  with  his  partner  a  quar 
ter  of  an  hour  altogether  about  this  subject,  considering  it  entirely  his  own 
job  ;  and  the  plaintiff  himself,  in  conversation  with  Mr.  MoElrath,  in  the  pres 
ence  of  his  attorney,  had  fully  exonerated  Mr.  M.  from  anything  more  than 
legal  liability.)  But  Richard  was  on  his  legs  as  a  lawyer — he  pointed  to  the 
seal  on  his  bond — and  therefore  insisted  that  Thomas  McElrath  was  art  and 
part  in  the  alleged  libel,  not  only  legally,  but  actually,  and  would  have  been 
present  to  respond  to  it  if  he  had  deemed  it  susceptible  of  defense  !  As  a 
lawyer,  we  suppose  this  was  right ;  but,  as  an  Editor  and  a  man,  we  could  not 
have  done  it." 

'  Richard'  gave  way,  and  '  Horace'  addressed  the  jury  in  a  speech 
of  fifty  minutes,  which  need  not  be  inserted  here,  because  all  its 
leading  ideas  are  contained  in  the  narrative.  It  was  a  convincing 
argument,  so  fur  as  the  reason  and  justice  of  the  case  were  concern 
ed  ;  and,  in  any  court  where  reason  and  justice  bore  sway,  would 
have  gained  the  case.  "  Should  you  find,  gentleman,"  concluded 
Mr.  Greeley,  "  that  I  had  no  right  to  express  an  opinion  as  to  the 
honor  and  magnanimity  of  Mr.  Cooper,  in  pushing  his  case  to  a  trial 
as  related,  you  will  of  course  compel  me  to  pay  whatever  damage 
has  been  done  to  his  character  by  such  expression,  followed  and  ac 


MR.  COOPER    SUMS    UP.  231 

companied  by  his  own  statement  of  the  whole  matter.  I  will  not 
predict  your  estimate,  gentlemen,  but  I  may  express  my  profound 
conviction  that  no  opinion  which  Mr.  Cooper  might  choose  to  express 
of  any  act  of  my  life — no  construction  he  could  put  upon  my  con 
duct  or  motives,  could  possibly  damage  me  to  an  extent  which 
would  entitle  or  incline  me  to  ask  damages  at  your  hands. 

"  But,  gentlemen,  you  are  bound  to  consider — you  cannot  refuse 
to  consider,  that  if  you  condemn  me  to  pay  any  sum  whatever  for 
this  expression  of  my  opinions  on  his  conduct,  you  thereby  seal  your 
own  lips,  with  those  of  your  neighbors  and  countrymen,  against  any 
such  expression  in  this  or  any  other  case  ;  you  will  no  longer  have 
a  right  to  censure  the  rich  man  who  harasses  his  poor  neighbor  with 
vexatious  lawsuits  merely  to  oppress  and  ruin  him,  but  will  be  lia 
ble  by  your  own  verdict  to  prosecution  and  damages  whenever  you 
shall  feel  constrained  to  condemn  what  appears  to  you  injustice,  op 
pression,  or  littleness,  no  matter  how  flagrant  the  case  may  be. 

"  Gentlemen  of  the  Jury,  my  character,  my  reputation  are  in  your 
hands.  I  think  I  may  say  that  I  commit  them  to  your  keeping  un 
tarnished  ;  I  will  not  doubt  that  you  will  return  them  to  me  unsul 
lied.  I  ask  of  you  no  mercy,  but  justice.  I  have  not  sought  this 
iv'-sue ;  but  neither  have  I  feared  nor  shunned  it.  Should  you  render 
the  verdict  against  me,  I  shall  deplore  far  more  than  any  pecuniary 
consequence  the  stigma  of  libeler  which  your  verdict  would  tend  to 
cast  upon  me — an  imputation  which  I  was  never,  till  now,  called  to 
repel  before  a  jury  of  my  countrymen.  But,  gentlemen,  feeling  no 
consciousness  of  deserving  such  a  stigma — feeling,  at  this  moment, 
as  ever,  a  profound  conviction  that  I  do  not  deserve  it,  I  shall  yet 
be  consoled  by  the  reflection  that  many  nobler  and  worthier  than  I 
have  suffered  far  more  than  any  judgment  here  could  inflict  on  me 
for  the  Rights  of  Free  Speech  and  Opinion — the  right  of  rebuking 
oppression  and  meannesa  in  the  language  of  manly  sincerity  and 
honest  feeling.  By  their  example,  may  I  still  be  upheld  and 
strengthened.  Gentlemen,  I  fearlessly  await  your  decision  1" 

Mr.  Greeley  resumes  his  narrative  : 

"  Mr.  J.  Fenimore  Cooper  summed  up  in  person  the  cause  for  the  prosecution. 
He  commenced  by  giving  at  length  the  reasons  which  had  induced  him  to 
biing  this  suit  in  Saratoga.  The  last  and  only  one  that  made  any  impression 


232  THE    TRIBUNE    AND   J.  FENIMORE    COOPEE. 

on  our  mind  was  this,  that  he  had  heard  a  great  deal  of  good  of  the  people  of 
Saratoga,  and  wished  to  form  a  better  acquaintance  with  them.  (Of  course 
this  desire  was  very  flattering ;  but  we  hope  the  Saratogans  won't  feel  too 
proud  to  speak  to  common  folks  hereafter,  for  we  want  liberty  to  go  there  again 
next  summer.) 

"  Mr.  Cooper  now  walked  into  the  Public  Press  and  its  a.leged  abuses,  arro 
gant  pretensions,  its  interference  in  this  case,  probable  motives,  etc.,  but  the 
public  are  already  aware  of  his  sentiments  respecting  the  Press,  and  would 
not  thank  us  to  recapitulate  them.  His  stories  of  editors  publishing  truth  and 
falsehood  with  equal  relish  may  have  foundation  in  individual  cases,  but  cer 
tainly  none  in  general  practice.  No  class  of  men  spend  a  tenth  part  so  much 
time  or  money  in  endeavoring  to  procure  the  earliest  and  best  information 
from  all  quarters,  as  it  is  their  duty  to  do.  Occasionally  an  erroneous  or  ut 
terly  false  statement  gets  into  print  and  is  copied — for  editors  cannot  intuitive 
ly  separate  all  truth  from  falsehood — but  the  evil  arises  mainly  from  the  cir 
cumstance  that  others  than  editors  are  often  the  spectators  of  events  demand 
ing  publicity ;  since  we  cannot  tell  where  the  next  man  is  to  be  killed,  or  the 
next  storm  rage,  or  the  next  important  cause  to  bo  tried :  if  we  had  the 
power  of  prophecy,  it  would  then  be  time  to  invent  some  steam-lightning 
balloon,  and  have  a  reporter  ready  on  the  spot  the  moment  before  any  notable 
event  should  occur.  This  would  do  it ;  but  now  we  luckless  editors  must  too 
often  depend  on  the  observation  and  reports  of  those  who  are  less  observant, 
less  careful,  possibly  in  some  cases  less  sagacious,  than  those  of  our  own  tribe. 
Our  limitations  are  not  unlike  those  of  Mr.  Weller,  Junior,  as  stated  while 
under  cross-examination  in  the  case  of  Bardell  vs.  Pickwick  : 

"  '  Yes,  I  have  eyes,'  replied  Sam,  '  and  that 's  just  it.  If  they  was  a  pair 
of  patent  double  million  magnifyin'  gas  microscopes  of  hextra  power,  p'raps 
I  might  be  able  to  see  through  a  flight  of  stairs  and  a  deal  door,  but  bein' 
only  eyes,  you  see,  my  wision's  limited.' 

"  Fenimore  proceeded  to  consider  our  defense,  which  he  used  up  in  five  min 
utes,  by  pronouncing  it  no  defence  at  all!  It  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  mat 
ter  in  issue  whatever,  and  we  must  be  very  green  if  we  meant  to  be  serious 
in  offering  it.  (We  were  rather  green  in  Supreme  Court  libel  law,  that 's  a 
fact ;  but  we  were  put  to  school  soon  after,  and  have  already  run  up  quite  a 
little  bill  for  tuition,  which  is  one  sign  of  progress.)  His  Honor  the  Judge 
would  tell  the  Jury  that  our  law  was  no  law  whatever,  or  had  nothing  to  do 
with  this  case.  (So  he  did— Cooper  was  right  here.)  In  short,  our  speech 
could  not  have  been  meant  to  apply  to  this  case,  but  was  probably  the  scrap 
ings  of  our  editorial  closet — mere  odds  and  ends — what  the  editors  call  '  Ba 
laam.'  Here  followed  a  historical  digression,  concerning  what  editors  call 
1  Balaam,'  which,  as  it  was  intended  to  illustrate  the  irrelevancy  of  our  whole 
argument,  we  thought  very  pertinent.  It  wound  up  with  what  was  meant  for 
a  joke  about  Balaam  and  his  asa,  which  of  course  was  a  good  thing ;  but  its 


MR.  COOPER    SUMS    UP.  2S« 

point  wholly  escaped  us,  and  we  believe  the  auditors  were  equally  unfortunate. 
However,  the  wag  himself  appreciated  and  enjoyed  it. 

"  There  were  several  other  jokes  (we  suppose  they  were)  uttered  in  the  course 
of  this  lively  speech,  but  we  did  n't  get  into  their  merits,  (probably  not  being 
in  the  best  humor  for  joking ;)  but  one  we  remembered  because  it  was  really 
good,  and  came  down  to  our  comprehension.  Fenimore  was  replying  to  our 
remarks  about  the  { handsome  Mr.  Emngham,'  (see  speech,)  when  he  observed 
that  if  we  should  sue  him  for  libel  in  '  pronouncing  us  not  handsome,  he  should 
not  plead  the  General  Issue,  but  Justify.'  That  was  a  neat  hit,  and  well 
planted.  We  can  tell  him,  however,  that  if  the  Court  should  rule  as  hard 
against  him  as  it  does  against  editors  when  they  undertake  to  justify,  he  would 
find  it  difficult  to  get  in  the  testimony  to  establish  a  matter  even  so  plain  as 
our  plainness. 

"  Fenimore  now  took  up  the  Fonda  libel  suit,  and  fought  the  whole  battle 
over  again,  from  beginning  to  end.  Now  we  had  scarcely  touched  on  this,  sup 
posing  that,  since  we  did  not  justify,  we  could  only  refer  to  the  statements 
contained  in  the  publications  put  in  issue  between  us,  and  that  the  Judge 
would  check  us,  if  we  went  beyond  these.  Fenimore,  however,  had  no  trou 
ble  ;  said  whatever  he  pleased — much  of  which  would  have  been  very  perti 
nent  if  he,  instead  of  we,  had  been  on  trial — showed  that  he  did  not  believe 
anything  of  Mr.  Weed's  family  being  sick  at  the  time  of  the  Fonda  Trials, 
why  he  did  not,  &c.,  <fee.  We  thought  he  might  have  reserved  «4ll  this  till  we 
got  down  to  dinner,  which  everybody  was  now  hungry  for,  and  where  it  would 
have  been  more  in  place  than  addressed  to  the  Jury. 

"  Knowing  what  we  positively  did  and  do  of  the  severe  illness  of  the  wife 
of  Mr.  Weed,  and  the  dangerous  state  of  his  eldest  daughter  at  the  time  of  the 
Fonda  Trials  in  question — regarding  them  as  we  do — the  jokes  attempted  to 
be  cut  by  Fenimore  over  their  condition — his  talk  of  the  story  growing  up 
from  one  girl  to  the  mother  and  three  or  four  daughters — his  fun  about  their 
probably  having  the  Asiatic  cholera  among  them  or  some  other  contagious 
disease,  &c.,  &c.,  however  it  may  have  sounded  to  others,  did  seem  to  us 

rather  inhu Hallo  there !  we  had  like  to  have  put  our  foot  right  into  it 

again,  after  all  our  tuition.  We  mean  to  say,  considering  that,  just  the  day 
before,  Mr.  Weed  had  been  choked  by  his  counsel  into  surrendering  at  dis 
cretion  to  Fenimore,  being  assured  (correctly)  by  said  counsel  that,  as  the  law 
is  now  expounded  and  administered  by  the  Supreme  Court,  he  had  no  earthly 
choice  but  to  bow  his  neck  to  the  yoke,  pay  all  that  might  be  claimed  of  him 
and  publish  whatever  humiliations  should  be  required,  or  else  prepare  to  be 
immediately  ruined  by  the  suits  which  Fenimore  and  Richard  had  already 
commenced  or  were  getting  ready  for  him — considering  all  this,  and  b.QW  much 
Mr.  Weed  has  paid  and  must  pay  towards  his  subsistence — how  keenly  W.  has 
had  to  smart  for  speaking  his  mind  of  him — we  did  not  think  that  Feni- 
more's  talk  at  this  time  and  place  of  Weed's  family,  and  of  Weed  himself  a* 


234        THE  TRIBUNE  AND  J.  FENIMORE  COOPER. 

A  man  BO  paltry  that  he  would  pretend  sickness  in  his  family  as  an  excuse  tc 
keep  away  from  Court,  and  resort  to  trick  after  trick  to  put  off  his  case  for  a 
day  or  two — it  seemed  to  us,  considering  the  present  relations  of  the  parties, 

most  ungen There  we  go  again  !     We  mean  to  say  that  the  whole  of  this 

part  of  Mr.  Cooper's  speech  grated  upon  our  feelings  rather  harshly.  We  be 
lieve  that  isn't  a  libel.  (This  talking  with  a  gag  in  the  mouth  is  rather  awk 
ward  at  first,  but  we  '11  get  the  hang  of  it  in  time.  Have  patience  with  us, 
Fenimore  on  one  side  and  the  Public  on  the  other,  till  we  nick  it.) 

********* 

"  Personally,  Fenimore  treated  us  pretty  well  on  this  trial — let  us  thank 
him  for  that — and  so  much  the  more  that  he  did  it  quite  at  the  expense  of  his 
consistency  and  his  logic.  For,  after  stating  plumply  that  he  considered  us 
the  best  of  the  whole  Press-gang  he  had  been  fighting  with,  he  yet  went  on  to 
argue  that  all  we  had  done  and  attempted  with  the  intent  of  rendering  him  strict 
justice,  had  been  in  aggravation  of  our  original  trespass  !  Yes,  there  he  stood, 
saying  one  moment  that  we  were,  on  the  whole,  rather  a  clever  fellow,  and 
every  other  arguing  that  we  had  done  nothing  but  to  injure  him  wantonly  and 
maliciously  at  first,  and  then  all  in  our  power  to  aggravate  that  injury ! 
(What  a  set  the  rest  of  us  must  be  !) 

"  And  here  is  where  he  hit  us  hard  for  the  first  time.  He  had  talked  over 
an  hour  without  gaining,  as  we  could  perceive,  an  inch  of  ground.  When  his 
compliment  was  put  in,  we  supposed  he  was  going  on  "to  say  he  was  satisfied 
with  our  explanation  of  the  matter  and  our  intentions  to  do  him  justice,  and 
would  now  throw  up  the  case.  But  instead  of  this  he  took  a  sheer  the  other 
way,  and  came  down  upon  us  with  the  assertion  that  our  publishing  his  state 
ment  of  the  Fonda  business  with  our  comments,  was  an  aggravation  of  our 
original  offense — was  in  effect  adding  insult  to  injury  ! 

******* 

"  There  was  a  little  point  made  by  the  prosecution  which  seemed  to  us  too 
little.  Our  Fonda  letter  had  averred  that  Cooper  had  three  libel-suits  coming 
off  there  at  that  Circuit — two  against  Webb,  one  against  Weed.  Richard  and 
Fenimore  argued  that  this  was  a  lie — the  one  against  Weed  was  all.  The 
nicety  of  the  distinction  here  taken  will  be  appreciated  when  we  explain  that 
the  suits  against  Webb  were  indictments  for  libels  on  J.  Fenimore  Cooper ! 

"  We  supposed  that  Fenimore  would  pile  up  the  law  against  us,  but  were 
disappointed.  He  merely  cited  the  last  case  decided  against  an  Editor  by  the 
Supreme  Court  of  this  State.  Of  course,  it  was  very  fierce  against  Editors 
and  their  libels,  but  did  not  strike  us  as  at  all  meeting  the  issue  we  had 
raised,  or  covering  the  grounds  on  which  this  case  ought  to  have  been  decided. 

"  Fenimore  closed  very  effectively  with  an  appeal  for  his  character,  and  a 
picture  of  the  sufferings  of  his  wife  and  family — his  grown-up  daughters  often 
suffused  in  tears  by  these  attacks  on  their  father.  Some  said  this  was  mawk 
ish,  but  we  consider  it  good,  and  think  it  told.  We  have  a  different  theory  as 


THE    VERDICT.       .  235 

Jo  what  the  girls  were  crying  for,  but  we  won't  state  it  lest  another  dose  of 
Supreme  Court  law  be  administered  to  us.  ('  Not  any  more  at  present,  I 
thank  ye.') 

"Fenimore  closed  something  before  two  o'clock,  having  spoken  over  an  hour 
and  a  half.  If  he  had  not  wasted  so  much  time  in  promising  to  make  but  a 
short  speech  and  to  close  directly,  he  could  have  got  through  considerably 
sooner.  Then  he  did  wrong  to  Richard  by  continually  recurring  to  and  ful 
some  eulogiums  on  the  argument  of  'my  learned  kinsman.'  Richard  had 
made  a  good  speech  and  an  effective  one — no  mistake  about  it — and  Fenimore 
must  mar  it  first  by  needless,  provoking  interruptions,  and  then  by  praises 
which,  though  deserved,  were  horribly  out  of  place  and  out  of  taste.  Feni 
more,  my  friend,  you  and  I  had  better  abandon  the  Bar — we  are  not  likely 
either  of  us  to  cut  much  of  a  figure  there.  Let  us  quit  before  we  make  our 
selves  ridiculous. 

"  His  Honor  Judge  Willard  occupied  a  brief  half  hour  in  charging  the 
Jury.  We  could  not  decently  appear  occupied  in  taking  down  this  Charge, 
and  no  one  else  did  it — so  we  must  speak  of  it  with  great  circumspection.  That 
he  would  go  dead  against  us  on  the  Law  of  the  case  we  knew  right  well,  from 
his  decisions  and  charges  on  similar  trials  before.  Not  having  his  Law  points 
before  us,  w«  shall  not  venture  to  speak  of  them.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that 
they  were  New  York  Supreme  and  Circuit  Court  Law — no  better  and  no  worse 
than  he  has  measured  off  to  several  editorial  culprits  before  us.  They  are 
the  settled  maxims  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  this  State  in  regard  to  the  law 
of  libel  as  applied  to  Editors  and  Newspapers,  and  we  must  have  been  a  goose 
to  expect  any  better  than  had  been  served  out  to  our  betters.  The  Judge 
was  hardly,  if  at  all,  at  liberty  to  know  or  tolerate  any  other. 

******* 

"  But  we  have  filled  our  paper,  and  must  close.  The  Judge  charged  very 
hard  against  us  on  tfte  facts  of  the  case,  as  calling  for  a  pretty  sizable  verdict — 
our  legal  guilt  had  of  course  been  settled  long  before  in  the  Supreme  Court. 

"When  the  Charge  commenced,  we  would  not  have  given  Fenimore  the 
first  red  cent  for  his  verdict ;  when  it  closed,  we  understood  that  we  were 
booked  to  suffer  some.  If  the  Jury  had  returned  a  verdict  in  our  favor, 
the  Judge  must  have  been  constrained  by  his  charge  to  set  it  aside,  as 
contrary  to  law. 

"  The  Jury  retired  about  half-past  two,  and  the  rest  of  us  went  to  dinner. 
The  Jury  were  hungry  too,  and  did  not  stay  out  long.  On  comparing  notes, 
there  were  seven  of  them  for  a  verdict  of  $100,  two  for  $200,  and  three  for 
$500.  They  added  these  sums  up— total  $2,600— divided  by  12,  and  the 
dividend  was  a  little  over  $200  ;  so  they  called  it  $200  damages  and  six 
cents  costs,  which  of  course  carries  full  costs  against  us.  We  went  back 
from  dinner,  took  the  verdict  in  all  meekness,  took  a  sleigh,  and  struck  a 
bee-line  for  New  York." 


236        THE  TRIBUNE  AND  J.  FENIMCRE  COOPER. 

"Thus  for  the  Tribune  the  rub-a-dub  is  over ;  the  adze  we  trust  laid  asidt  j 
the  staves  all  in  their  places  ;  the  hoops  tightly  driven  ;  and  the  heading  not 
particularly  out  of  order.  Nothing  remains  but  to  pay  piper,  or  cooper,  or 
whatever ;  and  that  shall  be  promptly  attended  to. 

"  Yes,  Fenimore  shall  have  his  8200.  To  be  sure,  we  don't  exactly  see  how 
we  came  to  owe  him  that  sum ;  but  he  has  won  it,  and  shall  be  paid.  '  The 
court  awards  it,  and  the  law  doth  give  it.'  We  should  like  to  meet  him  and 
have  a  social  chat  over  the  whole  business,  now  it  is  over.  There  has  been  a 
good  deal  of  fun  in  it,  come  to  look  back  ;  and  if  he  has  as  little  ill-will  to 
ward  us  as  we  bear  to  him,  there  shall  never  be  another  hard  thought  between 
us.  We  don't  blame  him  a  bit  for  the  whole  matter  ;  he  thought  we  injured 
him,  sued  us,  and  got  his  pay.  Since  the  Jury  have  cut  down  his  little  bill 
from  $3,000  to  $200,  we  won't  higgle  a  bit  about  the  balance,  but  pay  it  on 
sight.  In  fact,  we  rather  like  the  idea  of  being  so  munificent  a  patron  (for 
our  means)  of  American  Literature  ;  and  are  glad  to  do  anything  for  one  of 
the  most  creditable  (of  old)  of  our  authors,  who  are  now  generally  reduced  to 
any  shift  for  a  living  by  that  grand  National  rascality  and  greater  folly,  the 
denial  of  International  Copyright.  ('My  pensive  public,'  don't  flatter  yourself 
that  we  are  to  be  rendered  mealy-mouthed  toward  you  by  our  buffeting.  We 
shall  put  it  to  your  iniquities  just  as  straight  as  a  loon's  leg,  calling  a  spade 
a  spade,  and  not  an  oblong  garden  implement,  until  the  judicial  construction 
of  the  law  of  libel  shall  take  another  hitch,  and  its  penalties  be  invoked  to 
shield  communities  as  well  as  individuals  from  censure  for  their  transgressions 
Till  then,  keep  a  bright  look  out !) 

"  And  Richard,  too,  shall  have  his  share  of  '  the  spoils  of  victory.'  He  has 
earned  them  fairly,  and,  in  the  main,  like  a  gentleman — making  us  no  need 
less  trouble,  and  we  presume  no  needless  expense.  All  was  fair  and  above 
board,  save  some  little  specks  in  his  opening  of  the  case,  which  we  noticed 
some  hours  ago,  and  have  long  since  forgiven.  For  the  rest,  we  rather  like 
what  we  have  seen  of  him  ;  and  if  anybody  has  any  law  business  in  Otsego,  or 
any  libel  suits  to  prosecute  anywhere,  we  heartily  recommend  Richard  to  do 
the  work,  warranting  the  client  to  be  handsomely  taken  in  and  done  for 
throughout.  (There  's  a  puff,  now,  a  man  may  be  proud  of.  We  don't  give 
such  every  day  out  of  pure  kindness.  It  was  Fenimore,  we  believe,  that  said 
on  the  trial,  that  our  word  went  a  great  way  in  this  country.)  Can  we  say  a 
good  word  for  you,  gallant  foeman?  We'll  praise  any  thing  of  yours  we 
have  read  except  the  Monikins. 

"  But  sadder  thoughts  rush  in  on  us  in  closing.  Our  case  is  well  enough, 
or  of  no  moment ;  but  we  cannot  resist  the  conviction  that  by  the  result  of 
these  Cooper  libel- suits,  and  by  the  Judicial  constructions  which  produce  that 
result,  the  Liberty  of  the  Press — its  proper  influence  and  respectability,  its 
power  to  rebuke  wrong  and  to  exert  a  salutary  influence  upon  the  Public  Mor 
al*  is  fearfully  impaired  We  do  not  see  how  any  paper  can  exist,  and  speak 


A   NEW   SUIT.  237 

and  act  worthily  and  usefully  in  this  State,  without  subjecting  itself  daily  to 
innumerable,  unjust  and  crushing  prosecutions  and  indictments  for  libel. 
Even  if  Juries  could  have  nerves  of  iron  to  say  and  do  what  they  really  think 
right  between  man  and  man,  the  costs  of  such  prosecution  would  ruin  any 
journal.  But  the  Liberty  £>f  the  Press  has  often  been  compelled  to  appeal 
from  the  bench  to  the  people.  It  will  do  so  now,  and  we  will  nut  doubt  with 
success.  Let  not,  then,  the  wrong-doer  who  is  cunning  enough  to  keep  the 
blind  side  of  the  law,  the  swindling  banker  who  has  spirited  away  the  means 
of  the  widow  and  orphan,  the  libertine  who  has  dragged  a  fresh  victim  to  his 
lair,  imagine  that  they  are  permanently  shielded,  by  this  misapplication  of 
the  law  of  libel,  from  fearless  exposure  to  public  scrutiny  and  indignation  by 
the  eagie  gaze  of  an  unfettered  Press.  Clouds  and  darkness  may  for  the 
moment  rest  upon  it,  but  they  cannot,  in  the  nature  of  things,  endure.  In 
the  very  gloom  of  its  present  humiliation  we  read  the  prediction  of  its  speedy 
and  certain  restoration  to  its  rights  and  its  true  dignity — to  a  sphere  not  of 
legal  sufferance  merely,  but  of  admitted  usefulness  and  honor." 


This  narrative,  which  came  within  three-quarters  of  a  column  of 
filling  the  entire  inside  of  the  Tribune,  and  must  have  covered  fifty 
pages  of  foolscap,  was  written  at  the  rate  of  about  a  column  an 
hour.  It  set  the  town  laughing,  elicited  favorable  notices  from  more 
than  two  hundred  papers,  and  provoked  the  novelist  to  new  anger, 
and  another  suit;  in  which  the  damages  were  laid  at  three  thousand 
dollars.  "  We  have  a  lively  trust,  however,"  said  the  offending  edi 
tor,  "  that  we  shall  convince  the  jury  that  we  do  not  owe  him  the 
first  red  cent  of  it."  This  is  one  paragraph  of  the  new  complaint : 

"  And  the  said  plaintiff  further  says  and  avers  that  the  syllables  inhu,  fol 
lowed  by  a  dash,  when  they  occur  in  the  publication  hereinafter  set  forth,  as 

follows,  to  wit,  inhu ,  were  meant  and  intended  by  the  said  defendants  for 

the  word  inhuman,  and  that  the  said  defendants,  in  using  the  aforesaid  sylla 
bles,  followed  by  a  dash  as  aforesaid,  in  connection  with  the  context,  intended 
to  convey,  aad  did  convey,  the  idea  that  the  said  plaintiff,  on  the  occasion  re 
ferred  to  in  that  part  of  said  publication,  had  acted  in  an  inhuman  manner. 
And  the  said  plaintiff  also  avers  that  the  syllable  ungen,  followed  Dy  a  dash, 

as  follows,  to  wit,  ungen ,  when  they  occur  in  the  publication  hereinafter 

set  forth,  were  meant  and  intended  by  the  said  defendants  either  for  the  word 
ungenerous  or  the  word  ungentlemanly,  and  that  the  said  defendants,  in  using 
the  syllables  last  aforesaid,  followed  by  a  dash  as  aforesaid,  in  connection  with 
the  context,  intended  to  convey,  and  did  convey,  the  idea  that  the  said  plain 
tiff,  on  the  occasion  referred  to  in  that  part  of  said  publication,  hod  acted 


238  THE    TRIBUNE    AND   J.  FENIMORE    COOPER. 

either  in  a  most  ungenerous  or  a  most  ungentlemanly  manner,  to  wit,  at  the 
place  and  in  the  county  aforesaid." 

In  an  article  commenting  upon  the  writ,  the  editor,  after  repel 
ling  the  charge,  that  his  account  of  the  trial  was  'replete  with 
errors  of  fact,'  pointedly  addressed  his  distinguished  adversary  thus  : 

"But,  Fenimore,  do  hear  reason  a  minute.  This  whole  business  is  ridicu 
lous.  If  you  would  simply  sue  those  of  the  Press-gang  who  displease  you,  it 
would  not  be  so  bad ;  but  you  sue  and  write  too,  which  is  not  the  fair  thing. 
What  use  in  belittling  the  profession  of  Literature  by  appealing  from  its 
courts  to  those  of  Law  1  We  ought  to  litigate  upward,  not  down.  Now,  Fen 
imore,  you  push  a  very  good  quill  of  your  own  except  when  you  attempt  to 
be  funny — there  you  break  down.  But  in  the  way  of  cutting  and  slashing  you 
are  No.  one,  and  you  don't  seem  averse  to  it  either.  Then  why  not  settle 
this  difference  at  the  point  of  the  pen  1  We  hereby  tender  you  a  column  a 
day  of  The  Tribune  for  ten  days,  promising  to  publish  verbatim  whatever  you 
may  write  and  put  your  name  to — and  to  publish  it  in  both  our  daily  and 
weekly  papers.  You  may  give  your  view  of  the  whole  controversy  between 
yourself  and  the  Press,  tell  your  story  of  the  Ballston  Trial,  and  cut  us  up  to 
your  heart's  content.  We  will  further  agree  not  to  write  over  two  columns  in 
reply  to  the  whole.  Now  why  is  not  this  better  than  invoking  the  aid  of  John 
Doe  and  Richard  Roe  (no  offense  to  Judge  W.  and  your  '  learned  kinsman !') 
in  the  premises?  Be  wise,  now,  most  chivalrous  antagonist,  and  don't  detract 
from  the  dignity  of  your  profession  !" 

Mr.  Cooper,  we  may  infer,  became  wise ;  for  the  suit  never  came 
to  trial;  nor  did  he  accept  the  Tribune's  offer  of  a  column  a  day 
for  ten  days.  For  one  more  editorial  article  on  the  subject  room 
must  be  afforded,  and  with  that,  our  chapter  on  the  Cooperage  of 
the  Tribune  may  have  an  end. 

"Our  friend  Fenimore  Cooper,  it  will  be  remembered,  chivalrously  declared, 
in  his  summing  up  at  Ballston,  that  if  we  were  to  sue  him  for  a  libel  in  assert 
ing  our  personal  uncomeliness,  he  should  nc  t  plead  the  General  Issue,  but 
Justify.  To  a  plain  man,  this  would  seem  an  easy  and  safe  course.  But  let 
us  try  it :  Fenimore  has  the  audacity  to  say  we  are  not  handsome ;  we  employ 
Richard — we  presume  he  has  no  aversion  to  a  good  fee.  even  if  made  of  the 
Editorial  'sixpences'  Fenimore  dilated  on — and  commence  our  action,  laying 
the  venue  in  St.  Lawrence,  Allegheny,  or  some  other  county  where  our  personal 
appearance  is  not  notorious;  and,  if  the  Judge  should  be  a  friend  of  ours,  so 
much  the  better.  Well :  Fenimore  boldly  pleads  Justification,  thinking  it  as 
easy  as  not.  But  how  is  he  to  establish  itl  We  of  course  should  not  be  so 


AN   IMAGINARY    CASE.  239 

green  as  to  attend  the  Trial  in  person  on  such  an  issue — no  man  is  obliged  to 
make  out  his  adversary's  case — but  would  leave  it  all  to  Richard,  and  the 
help  the  Judge  might  properly  give  him.  So  the  case  is  on,  and  Fenimore 
undertakes  the  Justification,  which  of  course  admits  and  aggravates  the  libel ; 
so  our  side  is  all  made  out.  But  let  us  see  how  he  gets  along  :  of  course,  he 
will  not  think  of  offering  witnesses  to  swear  point-blank  that  we  are  homely — 
that,  if  he  did  not  know  it,  the  Judge  would  soon  tell  him  would  be  a  simple 
opinion,  which  would  not  do  to  go  to  a  Jury  ;  he  must  present  facts. 

"  Fenimore. — '  Well,  then,  your  Honor,  I  offer  to  prove  by  this  witness  that 
the  plaintiff  is  tow-headed,  and  half  bald  at  that ;  he  is  long-legged,  gaunt, 
and  most  cadaverous  of  visage — ergo,  homely.' 

"  Judge. —  How  does  that  follow  1  Light  hair  and  fair  face  bespeak  a 
purely  Saxon  ancestry,  and  were  honorable  in  the  good  old  days  :  /  rule  that 
they  are  comely.  Thin  locks  bring  out  the  phrenological  developments,  you 
see,  and  give  dignity  and  massiveness  to  the  aspect ;  and  as  to  slenderness, 
what  do  our  dandies  lace  for  if  that  is  not  graceful  1  They  ought  to  know 
what  is  attractive,  I  reckon.  No,  sir.  your  proof  is  irrelevant,  and  I  rule  it 
out.' 

"  Fenimore  (the  sweat  starting). — 'Well,  your  Honor,  I  have  evidence  to 
prove  the  said  plaintiff  slouching  in  dress ;  goes  bent  like  a  hoop,  and  so  rock 
ing  in  gait  that  he  walks  down  both  sides  of  a  street  at  once.5 

"  Judge. — '  That  to  prove  homeliness  1  I  hope  you  don't  expect  a  man  of 
ideas  to  spend  his  precious  time  before  a  looking-glass  1  It  would  be  robbing 
the  public.  "  Bent,"  do  you  say  ?  Is  n't  the  curve  the  true  line  of  beauty, 
I  'd  like  to  know  1  Where  were  you  brought  up?  As  to  walking,  you  don't 
expect  "  a  man  of  mark,"  as  you  called  him  at  Ballston,  to  be  quite  as  dapper 
and  pert  as  a  footman,  whose  walk  is  his  hourly  study  and  his  nightly  dream 
— its  perfection  the  sum  of  his  ambition  !  Great  ideas  of  beauty  you  must 
have  !  That  evidence  won't  answer.' 

"  Now,  Fenitnore,  brother  in  adversity  !  wouldn't  you  begin  to  have  a  re 
alizing  sense  of  your  awful  situation  ?  Would  n't  you  begin  to  wish  yourself 
somewhere  else,  and  a  great  deal  further,  before  you  came  into  Court  to  jus 
tify  legally  an  opinion  ?  Wouldn't  you  begin  to  perceive  that  the  application 
of  the  Law  of  Libel  in  its  strictness  to  a  mere  expression  of  opinion  is  absurd, 
mistaken,  and  tyrannical  1 

"  Of  course,  we  shan't  take  advantage  of  your  exposed  and  perilous  condi 
tion,  for  we  are  meek  and  forgiving,  with  a  hearty  disrelish  for  the  machinery 
of  the  law.  But  if  we  had  a  mind  to  take  hold  of  you,  with  Richard  to  help 
us,  and  the  Supreme  Court's  ruling  in  actions  of  libel  at  our  back,  wouldn't 
j  ou  catch  it  1  We  should  get  the  whole  Fund  back  again,  and  give  a  dinner 
to  the  numerous  Editorial  contributors.  That  dinner  would  be  worth  attend 
ing,  Fenimore  ;  and  we  '11  warrant  the  jokes  to  average  a  good  deal  better  than 
those  you  cracked  in  your  speech  at  Ballston." 


CHATTER    XIX. 

THE    TKIBUNE    CONTINUES. 

The  Special  Express  system— Night  adventures  of  Enoch  Ward— Gig  Express— Ex 
press  from  Halifax— Baulked  by  the  snow-drifts  -Party  warfare  then— Books  pub 
lished  by  Greeley  and  Me  El  rath— Course  of  the  Tribune— The  Editor  travels- 
Scenes  in  Washington— An  incident  of  travel— Clay  and  Frelinghuysen— The  exer 
tions  of  Horace  Greeley— Results  of  th*  defeat— The  Tribune  and  Slavery— Burn 
ing  of  the  Tribune  Building— The  Editor's  reflections  upon  the  fire. 

WHAT  gunpowder,  improved  fire-arms,  and  drilling  have  done  for 
war,  the  railroad  and  telegraph  have  done  for  the  daily  press, 
namely,  reduced  success  to  an  affair  of  calculation  and  expenditure. 
Twelve  years  ago,  there  was  a  chance  for  the  display  of  individual 
enterprise,  daring,  prowess,  in  procuring  news,  and,  above  all,  in  be 
ing  the  first  to  announce  it ;  which  was,  is,  and  ever  will  be,  the 
point  of  competition  with  daily  papers.  Those  were  the  days  of 
the  Special  Expresses,  which  appear  to  have  been  run,  regardless 
of  expense,  horseflesh,  and  safety,  and  in  the  running  of  which  in 
credible  things  were  achieved.  Not  reporters  alone  were  then 
sent  to  remote  places  to  report  an  expected  speech.  The  reporters 
were  accompanied,  sometimes,  by  a  rider,  sometimes  by  a  corps  of 
printers  with  fonts  of  type,  who  set  up  the  speech  on  the  special 
steamboat  as  fast  as  the  reporters  could  write  it  out,  and  had  it 
ready  for  the  press  before  the  steamboat  reached  the  city.  "Wonder 
ful  things  were  done  by  special  express  in  those  days ;  for  the  com 
petition  between  the  rival  papers  was  intense  beyond  description. 

Take  these  six  paragraphs  from  the  Tribune  as  the  sufficient  and 
striking  record  of  a  state  of  things  long  past  away.  They  need  no 
explanation  or  connecting  remark.  Perhaps  they  will  astonish  the 
young  reader  rather : 

"  The  Governor's  Message  reached  Wall  street  last  evening,  at  nine.  Tho 
contract  was  for  three  riders  and  ten  relays  of  horses,  and  the  Express  was  to 
•tart  at  12  o'clock,  M.,  and  reach  this  city  at  10  in  the  evening.  It  is  not 


THE    SPECIAL   EXPRESS    SYSTEM.  241 

known  here  whether  the  arrangements  at  the  other  end  of  the  route  were 
strictly  adhered  to ;  but  if  they  were,  and  the  Express  started  at  the  hour 
agreed  upon,  it  came  through  in  nine  hours,  making  but  a  fraction  less  than 
eighteen  miles  an  hour,  which  seems  almost  incredible.  It  is  not  impossible 
that  it  started  somewhat  before  the  time  agreed  upon,  and  quite  likely  that  ex 
tra  riders  and  horses  were  employed ;  but  be  that  as  it  may,  the  dispatch  ia 
almost — if  not  quite — unparalleled  in  this  country." 


"  Our  express,  (Mr.  Enoch  Ward,)  with  returns  of  the  Connecticut  Election, 
left  New  Haven  Monday  evening,  in  a  light  sulky,  at  twenty-five  minutes  be 
fore  ten  o'clock,  having  been  detained  thirty-five  minutes  by  the  non-arrival 
of  the  Express  locomotive  from  Hartford.  He  reached  Stamford — forty  miles 
from  New  Haven — in  three  hours.  Here  it  commenced  snowing,  and  the  night 
was  so  exceedingly  dark  that  he  could  not  travel  without  much  risk.  He  kept 
on,  however,  with  commendable  zeal,  determined  not  to  be  conquered  by  any 
ordinary  obstacles.  Just  this  side  of  New  Rochelle,  and  while  descending  a 
hill,  he  had  the  misfortune  to  run  upon  a  horse  which  was  apparently  stand 
ing  still  in  the  road.  The  horse  was  mounted  by  a  man  who  must  have  been 
asleep ;  otherwise  he  would  have  got  out  of  the  way.  The  breast  of  the  horse 
came  in  contact  with  the  sulky  between  the  wheel  and  the  shaft.  The  effect 
of  the  concussion  was  to  break  the  wheel  of  the  sulky  by  wrenching  out  nearly 
all  the  spokes.  The  night  was  so  dark  that  nothing  whatever  could  be  seen, 
and  it  is  not  known  whether  the  horse  and  the  stranger  received  any  material 
injury.  Mr.  Ward  then  took  the  harness  from  his  horse,  mounted  him  with 
out  a  saddle,  and  came  on  to  this  city,  a  distance  of  seventeen  miles,  arriving 
at  five  o'clock  on  Tuesday  morning." 


"It  will  be  recollected  that  a  great  ado  was  made  upon  the  receipt  in  this 
city  of  the  Acadia's  news  by  two  of  our  journals,  inasmuch  as  no  other  paper 
received  the  advices,  one  of  them  placarding  the  streets  with  announcements 
that  the  news  was  received  by  special  and  exclusive  express.  Now,  the  facts 
are  these  :  The  Acadia  arrived  at  Boston  at  half-past  three  o'clock,  the  cars 
leaving  at  four ;  in  coming  to  her  wharf  she  struck  her  bow  against  the  dock 
and  immediately  reversed  her  wheels,  put  out  again  into  the  bay,  and  did 
not  reach  her  berth  until  past  four.  But  two  persons,  belonging  to  the  offices 
of  the  Atlas  and  Times,  jumped  on  board  at  the  moment  the  ship  struck  the 
wharf,  obtained  their  packages,  and  threw  them  into  the  water,  whence  they 
were  taken  and  put  into  a  gig  and  taken  to  the  depot.  '  Thus,1  said  the  Con*' 
mercial,  from  which  we  gather  the  facts  stated  above  '  the  gig  was  the  "  Spe 
cial  Express,"  and  its  tremendous  run  was  from  Long  Wharf  to  the  depot — 
about  one  mile !' '  

"  The  news  by  the  next  steamer  ia  looked  for  with  intense  interest,  and  in 

11 


242  THE   TRIBUNE    CONTINUES. 

order  to  place  it  before  our  readers  at  an  early  moment,  we  made  arrange 
ments  some  weeks  since  to  start  a  horse  Express  from  Halifax  across  Nova 
Scotia  to  the  Bay  of  Fundy,  there  to  meet  a  powerful  steamer  which  will 
convey  our  Agent  and  Messenger  to  Portland.  At  the  latter  place  we  run 
a  Locomotive  Express  to  Boston,  whence  we  express  it  by  steam  and  horse 
power  to  New  York.  Should  no  unforeseen  accident  occur,  we  will  be  enabled 
by  this  Express  to  publish  the  news  in  New  York  some  ten,  or  perhaps  fifteen 
or  twenty  hours  before  the  arrival  of  the  steamer  in  Boston.  The  extent  of 
this  enterprise  may  in  part  be  judged  of  by  the  fact,  that  we  pay  no  less  than 
Eighteen  Hundred  Dollars  for  the  single  trip  of  the  steamer  on  the  Bay  of 
Fundy  !  It  is  but  fair  to  add  that,  in  this  Express,  we  were  joined  from  the 
commencement  by  the  Sun  of  this  city,  and  the  North  American  of  Phila 
delphia;  and  the  Journal  of  Commerce  has  also  since  united  with  us  in  the 
enterprise." 


"  We  were  beaten  with  the  news  yesterday  morning,  owing  to  circumstances 
which  no  human  energy  could  overcome.  In  spite  of  the  great  snow-storm, 
which  covered  Nova  Scotia  with  drifts  several  feet  high,  impeding  and  often 
overturning  our  express-sleigh — in  defiance  of  hard  ice  in  the  Bay  of  Fundy 
and  this  side,  often  18  inches  thick,  through  which  our  steamboat  had  to  plow 
her  way — we  brought  the  news  through  to  Boston  in  thirty-one  hours  from 
Halifax,  several  hours  ahead  of  the  Cambria  herself.  Thence  it  ought  to  have 
reached  this  city  by  6  o'clock  yesterday  morning,  in  ample  season  to  have 
gone  south  in  the  regular  mail  train.  It  was  delayed,  however,  by  unforeseen 
and  unavoidable  disasters^  and  only  reached  New  Haven  after  it  should  have 
been  in  this  city.  From  New  Haven  it  was  brought  hither  in  four  hmirs  and 
a  half  by  our  ever-trusty  rider,  Enoch  Ward,  who  never  lets  the  grass  grow  to 
the  heels  of  his  horses.  He  came  in  a  little  after  11  o'clock,  but  the  rival  ex 
press  had  got  in  over  two  hours  earlier,  having  made  the  shortest  run  from 
Boston  on  record." 


"  The  Portland  Bulletin  has  been  unintentionally  led  into  the  gross  error  of 
believing  the  audacious  fabrication  that  Bennett's  express  came  through  to 
this  city  in  seven  hours  and  five  minutes  from  Boston,  beating  onrsfae  or  six 
hours  !  That  express  left  Boston  at  11  P.  M.  of  Wednesday,  and  arrived  here 
20  minutes  past  9  on  Thursday — actual  time  on  the  road,  over  ten  hours.  The 
Bulletin  further  says  that  our  express  was  sixteen  hours  on  the  road.  No  such 
thing.  We  lost  some  fifteen  minutes  at  the  ferry  on  the  east  side  of  Boston. 
Then  a  very  short  time  (instead  of  an  hour  and  a  half,  as  is  reported  by  the 
express)  in  finding  our  agent  in  Boston  ;  then  an  hour  in  firing  up  an  engine  and 
getting  away  from  Boston,  where  all  should  have  been  ready  for  us,  but  was  not 
The  locomotive  was  over  two  hours  in  making  the  run  to  Worcester— 42  miles — 
though  the  Herald  runner  who  cam*  hrough  on  the  arrival  of  the  Cauibria 


PARTY   WARFARE    THEN.  243 

aoine  time  after,  was  carried  over  it  in  about  half  the  time,  with  not  one-fourth 
the  delay  we  en;ountered  at  the  depot  in  Boston.  (We  could  guess  how  all 
this  was  brought  about,  but  it  would  answer  no  purpose  now.)  At  Worcester, 
Mr.  Twitchell  (whom  our  agent  on  this  end  had  only  been  able  to  find  on 
Tuesday,  having  been  kept  two  days  on  the  route  to  Boston  by  a  storm,  and 
then  finding  Mr.  T.  absent  in  New  Hampshire)  was  found  in  bed,  but  got  up 
and  put  off,  intending  to  ride  but  one  stage.  At  its  end,  however,  he  found 
the  rider  he  had  hired  sick,  and  had  to  come  along  himself.  At  one  stopping- 
place,  he  found  his  horse  amiss,  and  had  to  buy  one  before  he  could  proceed. 
When  he  reached  Hartford  (toward  morning)  there  was  no  engine  fired  up,  no 
one  ready,  and  another  hour  was  lost  there.  At  New  Haven  our  rider  was 
asleep,  and  much  time  was  lost  in  finding  him  and  getting  off.  Thus  we  lost 
in  delays,  which  we  could  not  foresee  or  prevent,  over  three  hours  this  side  of 
Boston  ferry, — the  Cambria  having  arrived  two  or  three  days  earlier  than  she 
\»as  expected,  before  our  arrangements  could  be  perfected,  and  on  the  only 
night  of  the  week  that  the  rival  express  could  have  beaten  even  oicr  bad  time, 
— the  Long  Island  Railroad  being  obstructed  with  snow  both  before  and  after 
ward.  The  Herald  express  came  in  at  20  minutes  past  9;  our  express  waa 
here  at  15  minutes  past  12,  or  less  than  three  hours  afterward.  Such  are 
the  facts.  The  express  for  the  U.  S.  Gazette  crossed  the  ferry  to  Jersey  City 
at  10 J  instead  of  11|,  as  we  mis-stated  recently." 


That  will  do  for  the  curiosities  of  the  Special  Express.  Another 
feature  has  vanished  from  the  press  of  this  country,  since  those 
paragraphs  were  written.  The  leading  journals  are  no  longer  party 
journals.  There  are  no  parties;  and  this  fact  has  changed  the  look, 
and  tone,  and  manner  of  newspapers  in  a  remarkable  degree.  As 
a  curiosity  of  old-fashioned  party  politics,  and  as  an  illustration  of 
the  element  in  which  and  with  which  our  hero  was  compelled  oc 
casionally  to  labor,  I  am  tempted  to  insert  here  a  few  paragraphs 
of  one  of  his  day-of-the-election  articles.  Think  of  the  Tribune  of 
to-day,  and  judge  of  the  various  progress  it  and  the  country  have 
made,  since  an  article  like  the  following  could  have  seemed  at  home 
in  its  columns. 

THE   WARDS  ARE   AWAKE! 

"  OLD  FIRST !  Steady  and  true  !  A  split  on  men  has  aroused  her  to 
bring  out  her  whole  force,  which  will  tell  nobly  on  the  Mayor.  Friends  !  fight 
out  your  Collector,  split  fairly,  like  men,  and  be  good  friends  as  ever  at  sunset 
to-day  ;  but  be  sure  not  to  throw  away  ?our  Assistant  Alderman.  We  set 
you  down  600  for  Robert  Smith. 


244  THE    TRIBUNE    CONTINUES. 

"  SAUCY  SECOND  !  Never  a  Loco  has  a  look  here !  Our  friends  are  uni. 
ted,  and  have  done  their  work,  though  making  no  noise  about  it.  We  count 
on  400  for  Smith. 

"  GALLANT  THIRD  !  You  are  wanted  for  the  full  amount !  Things  are 
altogether  too  sleepy  here.  Why  won't  somebody  run  stump,  or  get  up  a 
volunteer  ticket  1  We  see  that  the  Loco-Foco  Collector  has  Whig  ballots 
printed  with  his  name  on  them  !  This  ought  to  arouse  all  the  friends  of  the 
clean  Whig  Ticket.  Come  out,  Whigs  of  tho  Third  !  and  pile  up  700  major 
ity  for  Robert  Smith  !  One  less  is  unworthy  of  you  ;  and  you  can  give  more 
if  you  try.  But  let  it  go  at  700." 

********* 

"  BLOODY  SIXTH  !  We  won 't  tell  all  we  hope  from  this  ward,  but  we 
know  Aid.  CROLIUS  is  popular,  as  is  OWEN  W.  BRENNAN,  our  Collector,  and 
we  feel  quite  sure  of  their  election.  We  know  that  yesterday  the  Locos  were 
afraid  Shaler  uould  decline,  as  they  said  his  friends  would  vote  for  Crolius 
rather  than  Emmons,  who  is  rather  too  well  known.  We  concede  300  major 
ity  to  Morris,  but  our  friends  can  reduce  it  to  200  if  they  work  right." 

******** 
"  EMPIRE  EIGHTH  !  shall  your  faithful  GEDNEY  be  defeated  ?  Has  he 
not  deserved  better  at  your  hands  ?  And  SWEET,  too,  he  was  foully  cheated 
out  of  his  election  last  year  by  Loco-Foco  fire  companies  brought  in  from  the 
Fifteenth,  and  prisoners  imported  from  Blackwell's  Island.  Eighteen  of  them 
in  one  house  !  You  owe  it  to  your  candidates  to  elect  them — you  owe  it  still 
more  to  yourselves — and  yet  your  Collector  quarrel  makes  us  doubt  a  little. 
Whigs  of  the  Eighth  !  resolve  to  carry  your  Alderman  and  you  WILL  !  Any 
how,  Robert  Smith  will  have  a  majority— we  '11  state  it  moderately  at  200." 

******** 
"  BLOOMING  TWELFTH !  The  Country  Ward  is  steadily  improving,  po 
litically  as  well  as  physically.  The  Whigs  run  their  popular  Alderman  of 
last  year ;  the  Locos  have  made  a  most  unpopular  Ticket,  which  was  only 
forced  down  the  throats  of  many  by  virtue  of  the  bludgeon.  Heads  were 
cracked  like  walnuts  the  night  the  ticket  was  agreed  to.  Wo  say  50  for 
Smith,  and  the  clean  Whig  ticket." 

******** 
"  Whigs  of  New  York  !  THE  DAY  is  YOURS  IF  YOU  WILL  !  But  if  you 
afeulk  to  your  chimney  corners  and  let  such  a  man  as  ROBERT  SMITH  be 
beaten  by  Robert  H.  Morris,  you  will  deserve  to  be  cheated,  plundered  and 
trampled  on  as  you  have  been.  But,  No  !  YOU  WILL  NOT  !  On  for  SMITH 
ANU  VICTORY  !" 

We  now  turn  over,  with  necessary  rapidity,  the  pages  of  the 
third  and  fourth  volumes  of  tho  Tribune,  pausing,  here  and  there, 
when  something  of  interest  respecting  its  editor  catches  our  eye. 


BOOKS    PUBLISHED    BY    GREELEY    AND    McELRATH. 

Greeley  and  McElrath,  we  observe,  are  engaged,  somewhat  exten 
sively,  in  the  business  of  publishing  books.  The  Whig  Almanac  ap 
pears  every  year,  and  sells  from  fifteen  to  twenty  thousand  copies. 
It  contains  statistics  without  end,  and  much  literature  of  what  may 
be  called  the  Franklin  School — short,  practical  articles  on  agricul 
ture,  economy,  and  morals.  '  Travels  on  the  Prairies,'  Ellsworth's 
4  Agricultural  Geology,'  *  Lardner's  Lectures,'  '  Life  and  Speeches  of 
Henry  Clay,'  *  Tracts  on  the  Tariff'  by  Horace  Greeley,  '  The  Farm 
ers'  Library,'  are  among  the  works  published  by  Greeley  and  McEl 
rath  in  the  years  1843  and  1844.  The  business  was  not  profitably 
I  believe,  and  gradually  the  firm  relinquished  all  their  publications, 
except  only  the  Tribune  and  Almanac.  September  1st,  1843,  the 
Evening  Tribune  began ;  the  Semi-Weekly,  May  17th,  1845. 

Carlyle's  Past  and  Present,  one  of  the  three  or  four  Great  Booka 
of  the  present  generation,  was  published  in  May  1843,  from  a  pri 
vate  copy,  entrusted  to  the  charge  of  Mr.  R.  W.  Emerson.  The 
Tribune  saw  its  merit,  and  gave  the  book  a  cordial  welcome. 
"  This  is  a  great  book,  a  noble  book,"  it  said,  in  a  second  notice, 
"  and  we  take  blame  to  ourself  for  having  rashly  asserted,  before  we 
had  read  it  thoroughly,  that  the  author,  keen- sigh  ted  at  discovering 
Social  evils  and  tremendous  in  depicting  them,  was  yet  blind  as  to 
their  appropriata  remedies.  He  does  see  and  indicate  those  reme 
dies — not  entirely  and  in  detail,  but  in  spirit  and  in  substance  very 
clearly  and  forcibly.  There  has  no  new  work  of  equal  practical 
value  with  this  been  put  forth  by  any  writer  of  eminence  within 
the  century.  Although  specially  addressed  to  and  treating  of  the 
People  of  England,  its  thoughts  are  of  immense  value  and  general 
application  here,  and  we  hope  many  thousand  copies  of  the  work 
will  instantly  be  put  into  circulation." 

Later  in  the  year  the  Tribune  introduced  to  the  people  of  the 
United  States,  the  system  of  Water-Cure,  copying  largely  from  Eu 
ropean  journals,  and  dilating  in  many  editorial  articles  on  the  man 
ifold  and  unsuspected  virtues  of  cold  water.  The  Erie  Railroad — 
t^at  gigantic  enterprise — had  then  and  afterwards  a  powerful  friend 
and  advocate  in  the  Tribune.  In  behalf  of  the  unemployed  poor, 
the  Tribune  spuKe  wisely,  feelingly,  and  often.  To  the  new  Native 
American  Party,  it  gave  no  quarter.  For'Irish  Repeal,  it  fogght  like 
a  tigsr.  For  Protection  and  Clay,  it  could  not  say  enough.  Upon. 


246  THE    TRIBUNE   CONTINUES. 

farmers  it  urged  the  duty  and  policy  of  high  farming.  To  the  strong 
unemployed  young  men  of  cities,  it  said  repeatedly  and  in  various 
terms,  '  Go  forth  into  the  Fields  and  Labor  with  your  Hands.' 

In  the  autumn,  Mr.  Greeley  made  a  tour  of  four  weeks  in  the  Far 
West,  and  wrote  letters  to  the  Tribune  descriptive  and  suggestive. 
In  December,  he  spent  a  few  days  in  Washington,  and  gave  a  sorry 
account  of  the  state  of  things  in  that  '  magnificent  mistake.' 

"To  a  new  comer,"  he  wrote,  "  the  Capitol  wears  an  imposing  appearance  : 
Nay,  more.  Let  him  view  it  for  the  first  time  by  daylight,  with  the  flag  of 
the  Union  floating  proudly  above  it,  (indicating  that  Congress  is  in  session,) 
and,  if  he  be  an  American,  I  defy  him  to  repress  a  swelling  of  the  heart — a 
glow  of  enthusiastic  feeling.  Under  these  free-flowing  Stripes  and  Stars  the 
Representatives  of  the  Nation  are  assembled  in  Council — under  the  emblem 
of  the  National  Sovereignty  is  in  action  the  collective  energy  and  embodiment 
of  that  Sovereignty.  Proud  recollections  of  beneficent  and  glorious  events 
come  thronging  thickly  upon  him — of  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  the 
struggles  of  the  Revolution,  and  the  far  more  glorious  peaceful  advances  of 
the  eagles  of  Freedom  from  the  Alleghanies  to  the  Falls  of  St  Anthony  and 
the  banks  of  the  Osage.  An  involuntary  cheer  rushes  from  his  heart  to  his 
lips,  and  he  hastens  at  once  to  the  Halls  of  Legislation  to  witness  and  listen 
to  the  displays  of  patriotic  foresight,  wisdom  and  eloquence,  there  evolved. 

"But  here  his  raptures  are  chilled  instanter.  Entering  the  Capitol,  he 
finds  its  passages  a  series  of  blind,  gloomy,  and  crooked  labyrinths,  through 
which  a  stranger  threads  his  devious  way  with  difficulty,  and  not  at  all  with 
out  inquiry  and  direction,  to  the  door  of  the  Senate  or  House.  Here  he  is 
met,  as  everywhere  through  the  edifice,  by  swarms  of  superserviceable  under 
lings,  numerous  as  the  frogs  of  Egypt,  eager  to  manifest  their  official  zeal 
and  usefulness  by  keeping  him  out  or  kicking  him  out  again.  He  retires  dis 
gusted,  and  again  threads  the  bewildering  maze  to  the  gallery,  where  (if  of 
the  House)  he  can  only  look  down  on  the  noisy  Bedlam  in  action  below  him — 
somebody  speaking  and  nobody  listening,  but  a  buzz  of  conversation,  the  trot 
ting  of  boys,  the  walking  about  of  members,  the  writing  and  folding  of  let 
ters,  calls  to  order,  cries  of  question,  calls  for  Yeas  and  Nays,  <tc.,  give  him 
large  opportunities  for  headache,  meager  ones  for  edification.  Half  an  hour 
will  usually  cure  him  of  all  passion  for  listening  to  debates  in  the  House. 
There  are,  of  course,  occasions  when  it  is  a  privilege  to  be  here,  but  I  speak  of 
the  general  scene  and  impression. 

"  To-day,  but  more  especially  yesterday,  a  deplorable  spectacle  has  been 
presented  here — a  glaring  exemplification  of  the  terrible  growth  and  diffusion 
of  office-begging.  The  Loco-Foco  House  has  ordered  a  clean  sweep  of  all  its 
underlings — door-keepers,  porters,  messengers,  wood-carriers,  <fcc.,  Ac.  I  care 


.      AN   INCIDENT    OF    TRAVEL.  247 

nothing  for  this,  so  far  as  the  turned-out  are  concerned — let  them  earn  a 
living,  like  other  folks — but  the  swarms  of  aspirants  that  invaded  every  avenue 
and  hall  of  the  Capitol,  making  doubly  hideous  the  dissonance  of  its  hundred 
echoes,  were  dreadful  to  contemplate.  Here  were  hundreds  of  young  boys, 
from  twenty  down  to  twelve  years  of  age,  deep  in  the  agonies  of  this  debasing 
game,  ear-wigging  and  button-holding,  talking  of  the  services  of  their  fathers 
or  brothers  to  'the  party,'  and  getting  members  to  intercede  for  them  with  the 
appointing  power.  The  new  door-keeper  was  in  distraction,  and  had  to  hide 
behind  the  Speaker's  chair,  where  he  could  not  be  hunted  except  by  proxy. 
******* 

"  The  situation  of  the  greater  number  of  Clerks  in  the  departments  and  other 
subordinate  office-holders  here  is  deplorable.  No  matter  what  are  their  re 
spective  salaries,  the  great  mass  of  them  are  always  behind- hand  and  getting 
more  so.  When  one  is  dismissed  from  office,  he  has  no  resource,  and  no 
ability  to  wait  for  any,  and  considers  himself,  not  unnaturally,  a  ruined  man. 
He  usually  begs  to  be  reinstated,  and  his  wife  writes  or  goes  to  the  Presi 
dent  or  Secretary  to  cry  him  back  into  place  with  an  'ower-true  tale'  of  a 
father  without  hope  and  children  without  bread;  if  repulsed,  their  prospect 
is  dreary  indeed.  Where  office  is  the  sole  resource,  and  its  retention  depend 
ent  on  another's  interest  or  caprice,  there  is  no  slave  so  pitiable  as  the 
officer. 

"  Of  course,  where  every  man's  livelihood  is  dependent  on  a  game  of  chance 
and  intrigue,  outright  gambling  is  frightfully  prevalent.  This  city  is  full  of 
it  in  every  shape,  from  the  flaunting  lottery-office  on  every  corner  to  the 
secret  card-room  in  every  dark  recess.  Many  who  come  here  for  office  lose 
their  last  cent  in  these  dens,  and  have  to  borrow  the  means  of  getting  away. 
Such  is  Washington." 

One  incident  of  travel,  and  we  turn  to  the  next  volume.  It  oc 
curred  on  *  a  Sound  steamboat'  in  the  year  of  our  Lord,  1843  : 

"  Two  cleanly,  well-behaved  black  men,  who  had  just  finished  a  two  years' 
term  of  service  to  their  country  on  a  ship-of-war,  were  returning  from  Boston 
to  their  homes  in  this  city.  They  presented  their  tickets,  showing  that  they 
had  paid  full  passage  through  at  Boston,  and  requested  berths.  But  there 
was  no  place  provided  for  blacks  on  the  boat ;  they  could  not  be  admitted  to 
the  common  cabin,  and  the  clerk  informed  them  that  they  must  walk  the  deck 
all  night,  returning  them  seventy-five  cents  of  their  passage -money.  We 
saw  the  captain,  and  remonstrated  on  their  behalf,  and  were  convinced  that 
the  fault  was  not  his.  There  was  no  space  on  the  boat  for  a  room  specially 
for  blacks  (which  would  probably  cost  $20  for  every  $1  it  yielded,  as  it  would 
rarely  be  required,  and  he  could  not  put  whites  into  it) ;  he  had  tried  to 
make  such  a  room,  but  could  find  no  place  ;  anc1  he  but  a  few  days  before  gave 


248  THE   TRIBUNE    CONTINUES. 

a  berth  in  tbe  cabin  to  a  decent,  cleanly  colored  man,  when  the  other  pas- 
eengers  appointed  a  committee  to  wait  on  him,  and  tell  him  that  would  not 
answer — so  he  had  to  turn  out  the  '  nigger'  to  pace  the  deck  through  the 
night,  count  the  slow  hours,  and  reflect  on  the  glorious  privilege  of  living  in 
a  land  of  liberty,  where  Slavery  and  tyranny  are  demolished,  and  all  men  are 
free  and  equal ! 

"  Such  occurrences  as  this  might  make  one  ashamed  of  Human  Natui»». 
We  do  not  believe  there  is  a  steamboat  in  the  South  where  a  negro  passing  a 
night  upon  it  would  not  have  found  a  place  to  sleep." 

The  year  1844  was  the  year  of  Clay  and  Frelinghuysen,  Polk  and 
Dallas,  the  year  of  Nativism  and  the  Philadelphia  riots,  the  year 
of  delirious  hope  and  deep  despair,  the  year  that  finished  one  era  of 
politics  and  began  another,  the  year  of  Margaret  Fuller  and  the 
burning  of  the  Tribune  office,  the  year  when  Horace  Greeley  show 
ed  his  friends  how  hard  a  man  can  work,  how  little  he  can  sleep, 
and  yet  live.  The  Tribune  began  its  fourth  volume  on  the  tenth  of 
April,  enlarged  one-third  in  size,  with  new  type,  and  a  modest  flour 
ish  of  trumpets.  It  returned  thanks  to  the  public  for  the  liberal 
support  which  had  been  extended  to  it  from  the  beginning  of  its 
career.  "  Our  gratitude,"  said  the  editor,  "  is  the  deeper  from  our 
knowledge  that  many  of  the  views  expressed  through  our  columns 
are  unacceptable  to  a  large  proportion  of  our  readers.  We  know 
especially  that  our  advocacy  of  measures  intended  to  meliorate  the 
social  condition  of  the  toiling  millions  (not  the  purpose,  but  the 
means),  our  ardent  sympathy  with  the  people  of  Ireland  in  their 
protracted,  arduous,  peaceful  struggle  to  recover  some  portion  of 
the  common  rights  of  man,  and  our  opposition  to  the  legal  extinc 
tion  of  human  life,  are  severally  or  collectively  regarded  with  ex 
treme  aversion  by  many  of  our  steadfast  patrons,  whose  liberality 
and  confidence  is  gratefully  appreciated."  To  the  Whig  party,  of 
which  it  was  "  not  an  organ,  but  an  humble  advocate,"  its  "  obliga 
tions  were  many  and  profound."  The  Tribune,  in  fact,  had  become 
the  leading  Whig  paper  of  the  country. 

Horace  Greeley  had  long  set  his  heart  upon  the  election  of  Henry 
Clay  to  the  presidency ;  and  for  some  special  reasons  besides  the 
general  one  of  his  belief  that  the  policy  identified  with  the  name 
of  Henry  Clay  was  the  true  policy  of  the  government.  Henry  Clay 
was  one  of  the  heroes  of  his  boyhood's  admiration.  Yet,  in  1840 


CLAY    AND    FRELINGHUYSEN.  249 

believing  that  Clay  could  not  be  elected,  he  had  used  his  influence 
to  promote  the  nomination  of  Gen.  Harrison.  Then  came  the  death 
of  the  president,  the  *  apostasy'  of  Tyler,  and  his  pitiful  attempts  to 
secure  a  re-election.  The  annexation  of  Texas  loomed  up  in  the 
distance,  and  the  repeal  of  the  tariff  of  1842.  For  these  and  other 
reasons,  Horace  Greeley  was  inflamed  with  a  desire  to  behold  once 
more  the  triumph  of  his  party,  and  to  see  the  long  career  of  the 
eminent  Kentuckian  crowned  with  its  suitable,  its  coveted  reward. 
For  this  he  labored  as  few  men  have  ever  labored  for  any  but  per 
sonal  objects.  He  attended  the  convention  at  Baltimore  that  nomi 
nated  the  Whig  candidates — one  of  the  largest  (and  quite  the  most 
excited)  political  assemblages  that  ever  were  gathered  in  this  coun 
try.  During  the  summer,  he  addressed  political  meetings  three, 
four,  five,  six  times  a  week.  He  travelled  far  and  wide,  advising, 
speaking,  and  in  every  way  urging  on  the  cause.  He  wrote,  on  an 
average,  four  columns  a  day  for  the  Tribune.  He  answered,  on  an 
average,  twenty  letters  a  day.  He  wrote  to  such  an  extent  that  his 
right  arm  broke  out  into  biles,  and,  at  one  time,  there  were  twenty 
between  the  wrist  and  the  elbow.  He  lived,  at  that  time,  a  long 
distance  from  the  office,  and  many  a  hot  night  he  protracted  his 
labors  till  the  last  omnibus  had  gone,  and  he  was  obliged  to  trudge 
wearily  home,  after  sixteen  hours  of  incessant  and  intense  exertion. 
The  whigs  were  very  confident.  They  were  sure  of  victory.  But 
Horace  Greeley  knew  the  country  better.  If  every  Whig  had  worked 
as  he  worked,  how  different  had  been  the  result !  how  different  the 
subsequent  history  of  the  country  !  how  different  its  future  !  We 
had  had  no  annexation  of  Texas,  n  *  Mexican  war,  no  tinkering  of 
the  tariff  to  keep  the  nation  provincially  dependent  on  Europe,  no 
Fugitive  Slave  Law,  no  Pierce,  no  Douglas,  no  Nebraska ! 

The  day  before  the  election,  the  Tribune  had  a  paragraph  which 
shows  how  excited  and  how  anxious  its  editor  was :  "  Give  to-mor 
row,"  he  said,  u  entirely  to  your  country.  Grudge  her  not  a  mo 
ment  of  the  daylight.  Let  not  a  store  or  shop  be  opened — nobody 
can  want  to  trade  or  work  till  the  contest  is  decided.  It  needs 
every  man  of  us,  and  our  utmost  exertions,  to  save  the  CITY,  the 
STATE  and  the  UNION.  A  tremendous  responsibility  rests  upon  us 
— an  electrifying  victory  or  calamitous  defeat  awaits  us.  Two  day* 
only  are  before  us.  Action !  Action !"  On  the  morning  of  the  de- 

II* 


250  THE    TRIBUNE    CONTINUES. 

cisive  day,  he  said,  "Don't  mind  the  rain.  It  may  be  bad  weather, 
but  nothing  to  what  the  election  of  Polk  would  bring  upon  us. 
Let  no  Whig  be  deterred  by  rain  from  doing  his  whole  duty !  Who 
values  his  coat  more  than  his  country  ?" 

All  in  vain.  The  returns  came  in  slowly  to  what  they  now  do. 
The  result  of  a  presidential  election  is  now  known  in  New  York 
within  a  few  hours  of  the  closing  of  the  polls.  But  then  it  was 
three  days  before  the  whigs  certainly  knew  that  Harry  of  the  West 
had  been  beaten  by  Polk  of  Tennessee,  before  Americans  knew  that 
their  voice  in  the  election  of  president  was  not  the  controlling  one. 

"  Each  morning,"  said  the  Tribune,  a  few  days  after  the  result 
was  known,  u  convincing  proofs  present  themselves  of  the  horrid 
effects  of  Loco-focoism,  in  the  election  of  Mr.  Polk.  Yesterday  it 
was  a  countermanding  of  orders  for  $8000  worth  of  stoves ;  to-day 
the  Pittsburg  Gazette  says,  that  two  Scotch  gentlemen  who  arrived 
in  that  city  last  June,  with  a  capital  of  £12,000,  which  they  wished 
to  invest  in  building  a  large  factory  for  the  manufacture  of  woolen 
fabrics,  left  for  Scotland,  when  they  learnt  that  the  Anti-Tariff 
champion  was  elected.  They  will  return  to  the  rough  hills  of  Scot 
land,  build  a  factory,  and  pour  their  goods  into  this  country  when 
Polk  and  his  break-down  party  shall  consummate  their  political 
iniquity.  These  are  the  small  first-fruits  of  Folk's  election,  the 
younglings  of  the  flock, — mere  hints  of  the  confusion  and  difficul 
ties  which  will  rush  down  in  an  overwhelming  ,flood,  after  the  Polk 
machine  gets  well  in  motion." 

The  election  of  Polk  and  Dallas  changed  the  tone  of  the  Tribune 
on  one  important  subject.  Until  the  threatened  annexation  of  Texas, 
which  the  result  of  this  election  made  a  certainty,  the  Tribune  had 
meddled  little  with  the  question  of  slavery.  To  the  silliness  of 
slavery  as  an  institution,  to  its  infinite  absurdity  and  impolicy,  to 
the  marvelous  stupidity  of  the  South  in  clinging  to  it  with  such 
pertinacity,  Horace  Greeley  had  always  been  keenly  alive.  But  ho 
had  rather  deprecated  the  agitation  of  the  subject  at  the  North, 
as  tending  to  the  needless  irritation  of  the  southern  mind,  as  more 
likely  to  rivet  than  to  unloose  the  shackles  of  the  slave.  It  was 
not  till  slavery  became  aggressive,  it  was  not  till  the  machinery  of 
politics  was  moved  but  with  the  single  purpose  of  adding  slave 
States  to  the  Union,  slave  members  to  Congress,  that  the  Tribune 


BURNING    OF    THE    TRIBUNE    BUILDING.  251 

assumed  an  attitude  of  hostility  to  the  South,  and  its  pet  Blunder. 
To  a  southerner  who  wrote  about  this  time,  inquiring  what  right  tli€ 
North  had  to  intermeddle  with  slavery,  the  Tribune  replied,  that 
"  when  we  find  the  Union  on  the  brink  of  a  most  unjust  and  rapa 
cious  war,  instigated  wholly  (as  is  officially  proclaimed)  by  a  deter 
mination  to  uphold  and  fortify  Slavery,  then  we  do  not  see  how  it 
can  longer  be  rationally  disputed  that  the  North  has  much,  very 
much,  to  do  with  Slavery.  If  we  may  be  drawn  in  to  fight  for  it, 
it  would  be  hard  indeed  that  we  should  not  be  allowed  to  talk  of 
it."  Thenceforth,  the  Tribune  fought  the  aggressions  of  the  slave 
power,  inch  by  inch. 

The  Tribune  continued  on  its  way,  triumphant  in  spite  of  the 
loss  of  the  election,  till  the  morning  of  Feb.  5th,  1845,  when  it  had 
the  common  New  York  experience  of  being  burnt  out.  It  shall 
tell  its  own  story  of  the  catastrophe : 

"  At  4  o* clock,  yesterday  morning,  a  boy  in  our  employment  entered  our 
publication  office,  as  usual,  and  kindled  a  fire  in  the  stove  for  the  day,  after 
which  he  returned  to  the  mailing-room  below,  and  resumed  folding  news 
papers.  Half  an  hour  afterward  a  clerk,  who  slept  on  the  counter  of  the  publi 
cation  office,  was  awoke  by  a  sensation  of  heat,  and  found  the  room  in  flames. 
He  escaped  with  a  slight  scorching  A  hasty  effort  was  made  by  two  or  three 
persons  to  extinguish  ths  fire  by  casting  water  upon  it,  but  the  fierce  wind 
then  blowing  rushed  in  as  the  doors  were  opened,  and  drove  the  flames  through 
the  building  with  inconceivable  rapidity.  Mr.  Qraham  and  our  clerk,  Robert  M. 
Strebeigh,  were  sleeping  in  the  second  story,  until  awakened  by  the  roar  of  the 
flames,  their  room  being  full  of  smoke  and  fire.  The  door  and  stairway  being 
on  fire,  they  escaped  with  only  their  night-clothes,  by  jumping  from  a  rear 
window,  ^each  losing  a  gold  watch,  and  Mr.  Graham  nearly  $500  in  cash,  which 
was  in  his  pocket  book  under  his  pillow.  Robert  was  somewhat  cut  in  the 
face,  on  striking  the  ground,  but  not  seriously.  In  our  printing-office,  fiftft 
story,  two  compositors  were  at  work  making  up  the  Weekly  Tribune  for  the 
press,  and  had  barely  time  to  escape  before  the  stairway  was  in  flames.  la 
the  basement  our  pressmen  were  at  work  on  the  Daily  Tribune  of  the  morn 
ing,  and  had  printed  about  three-fourths  of  the  edition.  The  balance  of  course 
went  with  everything  else,  including  a  supply  of  paper,  and  tho  Weekly  Tri 
bune,  printed  on  one  side.  A  few  books  were  hastily  caught  up  and  saved,  but 
nothing  else— not  even  the  daily  form,  on  which  the  prassmeu  were  working 
So  complete  a  destruction  of  a  daily  newspaper  office  was  never  known.  From 
the  editorial  rooms,  not  a  paper  was  saved;  and,  besides  all  the  editor's  own 


252  THJS   TRIBimJ!    CONTINUES. 

manuscripts,  correspondence,  and  collection  of  valuable  books,  same  inanu 
scripts  belonging  to  friends,  of  great  value  to  them,  are  gone. 

11  Our  loss,  so  far  as  money  can  replace  it,  is  about  $18,000,  of  which  $10,OOC 
was  covered  by  insurance.  The  loss  of  property  which  insurance  would  not 
cover,  we  feel  more  keenly.  If  our  mail-books  come  out  whole  from  our  Sala 
mander  safe,  now  buried  among  the  burning  ruins,  we  shall  be  gratefully 
content. 

"  It  is  usual  on  such  occasions  to  ask,  '  Why  were  you  not  fully  insured?' 
It  was  impossible,  from  the  nature  of  our  business,  that  we  should  be  so  ;  and 
no  man  could  have  imagined  that  such  an  establishment,  in  which  men  were 
constantly  at  work  night  and  day,  could  be  wholly  consumed  by  fire.  There 
has  not  been  another  night,  since  the  building  was  put  up,  when  it  could  have 
been  burned  down,  even  if  deliberately  fired  for  that  purpose.  But  when  this 
fire  broke  out,  under  a  strong  gale  and  snow-storm  of  twenty-four  hours'  con 
tinuance,  which  had  rendered  the  streets  impassable,  it  was  well-nigh  impos 
sible  to  drag  an  engine  at  all.  Some  of  them  could  not  be  got  out  of  their 
houses  ;  others  were  dragged  a  few  rods  and  then  given  up  of  necessity;  and 
those  which  reached  the  fire  found  the  nearest  hydrant  frozen  up,  and  only  to 
be  opened  with  an  axe.  Meantime,  the  whole  building  was  in  a  blaze." 

The  mail  books  were  saved  in  the  *  roasted  Herring.'  The  pro 
prietors  of  the  morning  papers,  even  those  most  inimical,  editorial 
ly,  to  the  Tribune,  placed  their  superfluous  materials  at  its  disposal. 
An  office  was  hired  temporarily.  Type  was  borrowed  and  bought. 
All  hands  worked  'with  a  will.'  The  paper  appeared  the  next 
morning  at  the  usual  hour,  and  the  number  was  one  of  the  best  of 
that  volume.  In  three  months,  the  office  was  rebuilt  on  improved 
plans,  and  provided  with  every  facility  then  known  for  the  issue  of 
a  daily  paper.  These  were  The  Tribune's  '  Reflections  over  the  Fire,' 
published  a  few  days  after  its  occurrence: 

"  We  have  been  called,  editorially,  to  scissor  out  a  great  many  fires,  both 
small  and  great,  and  have  done  so  with  cool  philosophy,  not  reflecting  how 
much  to  some  one  man  the  little  paragraph  would  most  assuredly  mean.  The 
late  complete  and  summary  burning  up  of  our  office,  licked  up  clean  as  it  waa 
by  the  red  flames,  in  a  few  hours,  has  taught  us  a  lesson  on  this  head.  Aside 
from  all  pecuniary  loss,  how  great  is  the  suffering  produced  by  a  fire !  A  hun 
dred  little  articles  of  no  use  to  any  one  save  the  owner,  things  that  people 
•would  look  at  day  after  day,  and  see  nothing  in,  that  we  ourselves  have  con 
templated  with  cool  indifference,  now  that  they  are  irrevocably  destroyed, 
come  up  in  the  shape  of  reminiscences,  and  seem  as  if  they  had  been  worth 
their  weight  in  gold. 


MARGARET   FULLER.  255 

•'  We  would  not  indulge  in  unnecessary  sentiment,  but  even  the  old  desk  al 
which  we  sat,  the  ponderous  inkstand,  the  familiar  faces  of  files  of  Correspond 
ence,  the  choice  collection  of  pamphlets,  the  unfinished  essay,  the  charts  by 
which  we  steered — can  they  all  have  vanished,  never  more  to  be  seen  ?  Truly 
your  fire  makes  clean  work,  and  is,  of  all  executive  officers,  super-eminent. 
Perhaps  that  last  choice  batch  of  letters  may  be  somewhere  on  file  ;  we  are 
almost  tempted  to  cry.  '  Devil  !  find  it  up  !'  Poh !  it  is  a  mere  cinder  now ; 

some 

" '  Fathoms  deep  my  letter  lies ; 
Of  its  lines  is  tinder  made.' 

"  No  Arabian  tale  can  cradle  a  wilder  fiction,  or  show  better  how  altogether 
illusory  life  is.  Those  solid  walls  of  brick,  those  five  decent  stories,  those 
steep  and  difficult  stairs,  the  swinging  doors,  the  Sanctum,  scene  of  many  a 
deep  political  drama,  of  many  a  pathetic  tale,  utterly  whiffed  out,  as  one  sum 
marily  snuffs  out  a  spermaceti  on  retiring  for  the  night.  And  all  perfectly 
true. 

"  One  always  has  some  private  satisfaction  in  his  own  particular  misery. 
Consider  what  a  night  it  was  that  burnt  us  out,  that  we  were  conquered  by 
the  elements,  went  up  in  flames  heroically  on  the  wildest,  windiest,  stormiest 
night  these  dozen  years,  not  by  any  fault  of  human  enterprise,  but  fairly  con 
quered  by  stress  of  weather ; — there  was  a  great  flourish  of  trumpets  at  all 
events. 

"  And  consider,  above  all,  that  Salamander  safe  ;  how,  after  all,  the  fire,  as 
sisted  by  the  elements,  only  came  off  second  best,  not  being  able  to  reduce  that 
safe  into  ashes.  That  is  the  streak  of  sunshine  through  the  dun  wreaths  of 
smoke,  the  combat  of  human  ingenuity  against  the  desperate  encounter  of  the 
seething  heat.  But  those  boots,  and  Webster's  Dictionary — well !  we  were 
handsomely  whipped  there,  we  acknowledge." 


CHAPTER    XX. 

MARGARET    FULLER. 

Her  writings  in  the  Tribune— She  resides  with  Mr.  Greeley— His  narrative— Dietetic 
Sparring— Her  manner  of  writing— Woman's  Rights— Her  generosity— Her  inde 
pendence—Her  love  of  children— Margaret  and  Pickie— Her  opinion  of  Mr.  Gree 
ley— Death  of  Pickie. 

MARGARET  FULLER'S  first  article  in  the  Tribune,  a  review  of  Em 
erson '<*  Essays,  appeared  on  the  seventh  of  December,  1844 ;  her 


254  MARGARET    FULLER. 

last,  "Farewell  to  New  York,"  was  published  August  1st,  1846,  on 
the  eve  of  her  departure  for  Europe.  From  Europe,  however,  she 
sent  many  letters  to  the  Tribune,  and  continued  occasionally,  though 
at  ever-increasing  intervals,  to  correspond  with  the  paper  down 
nearly  to  the  time  of  her  embarkation  for  her  native  land  in  1850. 

During  the  twenty  months  of  her  connection  with  the  Tribune, 
she  wrote,  on  an  average,  three  articles  a  week.  Many  of  them 
were  long  and  elaborate,  extending,  in  several  instances,  to  three  and 
four  columns ;  and,  as  they  were  Essays  upon  authors,  rather  than 
Reviews  of  Books,  she  indulged  sparingly  in  extract.  Among  her 
literary  articles,  we  observe  essays  upon  Milton,  8helley,  Oarlyle, 
George  Sand,  the  countess  LTahn  "Hahn,  Sue,  Balzac,  Charles  Wes 
ley,  Longfellow,  Richter,  and  other  magnates.  She  wrote,  also,  a 
few  musical  and  dramatic  critiques.  Among  her  general  contribu 
tions,  were  essays  upon  the  Rights,  Wrongs,  and  Duties  of  Women, 
a  defense  of  the  'Irish  Character,1  articles  upon  'Christmas,'  'New 
Year's  Day,'  'French  Gay ety,'  'the  Poor  Man,'  'the  Rich  Manr' 
'What  fits  a  man  to  be  a  Voter' — genial,  fresh,  and  suggestive 
essays  all.  Her  defense  of  the  Irish  character  was  very  touching 
and  just.  Her  essay  on  George  Sand  was  discriminating  and  cour 
ageous.  She  dared  to  speak  of  her  as  '  one  of  the  best  exponents 
of  the  difficulties,  the  errors,  the  weaknesses,  and  regenerative 
powers  of  the  present  epoch.'  "Let  no  man,"  continued  Miss  Ful 
ler,  "  confound  the  bold  unreserve  of  Sand  with  that  of  those  who 
have  lost  the  feeling  of  beauty  and  the  love  of  good.  With  a  bleed 
ing  heart  and  bewildered  feet' she  sought  the  Truth,  and  if  she  lost 
the  way,  returned  as  soon  as  convinced  she  had  done  so,  but  she 
would  never  hide  the  fact  that  she  had  lost  it.  '  What  Go-I  knows 
I  dare  avow  to  man,'  seems  to  be  her  motto.  It  is  impossible  not 
to  see  in  her,  not  only  the  distress  and  doubts  of  the  intellect,  but 
the  temptations  of  a  sensual  nature  ;  but  we  see,  too,  the  courage  of 
a  hero,  and  a  deep  capacity  for  religion.  The  mixed  nature,  too, 
fits  her  peculiarly  to  speak  to  men  so  diseased  as  men  are  at  present. 
They  feel  she  knows  their  ailment,  and,  if  she  finds  a  cure,  it  will 
really  be  by  a  specific  remedy." 

To  give  George  Sand  her  due,  ten  years  ago,  required  more  cour 
Rge  in  a  reviewer  than  it  would  now  to  withhold  it. 

Margaret  Fuller,  in  the  knowledge  of  literature,  was  the  most 


SHE    RESIDES    WITH    MR.  GREELET.  255 

learned  woman  of  her  country,  perhaps  of  her  time.  Her  under 
standing  was  greater  than  her  gift.  She  could  appreciate,  noj 
create.  She  was  the  noblest  victim  of  that  modern  error,  which 
makes  Education  and  Book-knowledge  synonymous  terms.  Her 
brain  was  terribly  stimulated  in  childhood  by  the  study  of  works 
utterly  unfit  for  the  nourishment  of  a  child's  mind,  and  in  after  life, 
it  was  further  stimulated  by  the  adulation  of  circles  who  place  the 
highest  value  upon  Intelligence,  and  no  value  at  all  upon  Wisdom. 
It  cost  her  the  best  years  of  her  life  to  unlearn  the  errors,  and  to 
overcome  the  mental  habits  of  her  earlier  years.  But  she  did  it. 
Her  triumph  was  complete.  She  attained  modesty,  serenity,  disin 
terestedness,  self-control.  "The  spirit  in  which  we  work,"  says 
Goethe,  "is  the  highest  matter."  "What  charms  and  blesses  the 
reader  of  Margaret  Fuller's  essays,  is  not  the  knowledge  they 
convey,  nor  the  understanding  they  reveal,  but  the  ineffably  sweet, 
benign,  tenderly  humane  and  serenely  high  spirit  which  they 
breathe  in  every  paragraph  and  phrase. 

During  a  part  of  the  time  of  her  connection  with  the  Tribune, 
Miss  Fuller  resided  at  Mr.  Greeley's  house,  on  the  banks  of  the  East 
river,  opposite  the  lower  end  of  Blackwell's  island.  "  This  place," 
she  wrote,  uis  to  me  entirely  charming;  it  is  so  completely  in  the 
country,  and  all  around  is  so  bold  and  free.  It  is  two  miles  or  moro 
from  the  thickly-settled  parts  of  New  York,  but  omnibuses  and  cars 
give  me  constant  access  to  the  city,  and,  while  I  can  readily  see 
what  and  whom  I  will,  I  can  command  time  and  retirement.  Stop 
ping  on  the  Harlem  road,  you  enter  a  lane  nearly  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  long,  and  going  by  a  small  brook  and  pond  that  locks  in  the 
place,  and  ascending  a  slightly  rising  ground,  get  sight  of  the  house, 
which,  old-fashioned  and  of  mellow  tint,  fronts  on  a  flower-garden 
filled  with  shrubs,  large  vines,  and  trim  box  borders.  On  both 
sides  of  the  house  are  beautiful  trees,  standing  fair,  full-grown,  and 
clear.  Passing  through  a  wide  hall,  you  come  out  upon  a  piaz 
za,  stretching  the  whole  length  of  the  house,  where  one  can  walk  in 
all  weathers.  *  *  The  beauty  here,  seen  by  moonlight,  is  truly 
transporting.  I  enjoy  it  greatly,  and  the  genius  loci  receives  me  as 
to  a  home." 

Mr.  Greeley  has  written  a  singularly  interesting  account  of  the 
rise  and  progress  of  his  friendship  with  Margaret  Fuller,  which  was 


256 


MAHGARET    FULLER. 


published,  a  lew  years  ago,  in  her  fascinating  memoirs.  A  man  /«, 
in  a  degree,  that  which  he  loves  to  praise;  and  the  narrative  re 
ferred  to,  tells  much  of  Margaret  Fuller,  but  more  of  Horace  Gree- 
ley.  Whatever  else  should  be  omitted  from  this  volume,  that  should 
not  be ;  and  it  is,  accordingly,  presented  here  without  abridgment. 

"  My  first  acquaintance  with  Margaret  Fuller  was  made  through  the  pages 
of  The  Dial.  The  lofty  range  and  rare  ability  of  that  work,  and  its  un- 
American  richness  of  culture  and  ripeness  of  thought,  naturally  filled  the 
fit  audience,  though  few,'  with  a  high  estimate  of  those  who  were  known  as 
its  conductors  and  principal  writers.  Yet  I  do  not  now  remember  that  any 
article,  which  strongly  impressed  me,  was  recognized  as  from  the  pen  of  its 
female  editor,  prior  to  the  appearance  of  '  The  Great  Law-suit,'  afterward 
matured  into  the  volume  more  distinctively,  yet  not  quite  accurately,  entitled 
'  Woman  in  the  Nineteenth  Century.'  I  think  this  can  hardly  have  failed  to 
make  a  deep  impression  on  the  mind  of  every  thoughtful  reader,  as  the  pre- 
duction  of  an  original,  vigorous  and  earnest  mind.  'Summer  on  the  Lakes,' 
which  appeared  some  time  after  that  essay,  though  before  its  expansion  into  a 
book,  struck  me  as  less  ambitious  in  its  aim,  but"  more  graceful  and  delicate 
in  its  execution ;  and  as  one  of  the  clearest  and  most  graphic  delineations  ever 
given  of  the  Great  Lakes,  of  the  Prairies,  and  of  the  receding  barbarism,  and 
the  rapidly -advancing,  but  rude,  repulsive  semi-civilization,  which  were  con 
tending  with  most  unequal  forces  for  the  possession  of  those  rich  lands.  I 
still  consider  '  Summer  on  the  Lakes'  unequaled,  especially  in  its  pictures  of 
the  Prairies,  and  of  the  sunnier  aspects  of  Pioneer  life. 

"  Yet,  it  was  the  suggestion  of  Mrs.  Greeley — who  had  ^pent  some  weeks 
of  successive  seasons  in  or  near  Boston,  and  who  had  there  made  the  personal 
acquaintance  of  Miss  Fuller,  and  formed  a  very  high  estimate  of  and  warm  at 
tachment  for  her — that  induced  me,  in  the  autumn  of  1844,  to  offer  her  terms, 
which  were  accepted,  for  her  assistance  in  the  literary  department  ot  The 
Tribune.  A  home  in  my  family  was  included  in  the  stipulation.  I  was  my 
self  barely  acquainted  with  her  when  she  thus  came  to  reside  with  us,  and  1 
did  not  fully  appreciate  her  nobler  qualities  for  some  months  afterward 
Though  we  were  members  of  the  same  household,  we  scarcely  met  save  at 
breakfast ;  and  my  time  and  thoughts  were  absorbed  in  duties  and  cares, 
which  left  me  little  leisure  or  inclination  for  the  amenities  of  social  inter 
course.  Fortune  seemed  to  delight  in  placing  us  two  in  relations  of  friendly 
antagonism — or  rather,  to  develop  all  possible  contrasts  in  our  ideas  and  social 
habits.  She  was  naturally  inclined  to  luxury,  and  a  good  appearance  before 
the  world.  My  pride,  if  I  had  any,  delighted  in  bare  walls  and  rugged  fare. 
She  was  addicted  to  strong  tea  and  coffee,  both  of  which  I  rejected  and  con 
demned,  even  in  the  most  homeopathic  dilutions ;  while,  my  general  health 


257 

being  sound,  and  hers  sadly  impaired,  I  could  not  fail  to  find  in  her  dietectic 
habits  the  causes  of  her  almost  habitual  illness ;  and  once,  while  we  were 
still  barely  acquainted,  when  she  came  to  the  breakfast- table  with  a  very 
severe  headache,  I  was  tempted  to  attribute  it  to  her  strong  potations  of  the 
Chinese  leaf  the  night  before.  She  told  me  quite  frankly  that  she  '  declined 
being  lectured  on  the  food  or  beverage  she  saw  fit  to  take,'  which  was  but 
reasonable  in  one  who  had  arrived  at  her  maturity  of  intellect  and  fixedness 
of  habits.  So  the  subject  was  thenceforth  tacitly  avoided  between  us ;  but, 
though  words  were  suppressed,  looks  and  involuntary  gestures  could  not  sc 
well  be  ;  and  an  utter  divergency  of  views  on  this  and  kindred  themes  created 
a  perceptible  distance  between  us. 

"  Her  earlier  contributions  to  The  Tribune  were  not  her  best,  and  I  did  not 
at  first  prize  her  aid  so  highly  as  I  afterward  learned  to  do.  She  wrote  always 
freshly,  vigorously,  but  not  always  clearly ;  for  her  full  and  intimate  ac 
quaintance  with  continental  literature,  especially  German,  seemed  to  have 
marred  her  felicity  and  readiness  of  expression  in  her  mother  tongue.  While 
I  never  met  another  woman  who  conversed  more  freely  or  lucidly,  the  at 
tempt  to  commit  her  thoughts  to  paper  seemed  to  induce  a  singular  em 
barrassment  and  hesitation.  She  could  write  only  when  in  the  vein,  and 
this  needed  often  to  be  waited  for  through  several  days,  while  the  occa 
sion  sometimes  required  an  immediate  utterance.  The  new  book  must  be  re 
viewed  before  other  journals  had  thoroughly  dissected  and  discussed  it,  else 
the  ablest  critique  would  command  no  general  attention,  and  perhaps  be,  by 
the  greater  number,  unread.  That  the  writer  should  wait  the  flow  of  inspira 
tion,  or  at  least  the  recurrence  of  elasticity  of  spirits  and  relative  health  of 
body,  will  not  seem  unreasonable  to  the  general  reader ;  but  to  the  inveterate 
hack-horse  of  the  daily  press,  accustomed  to  write  at  any  time,  on  any  sub 
ject,  and  with  a  rapidity  limited  only  by  the  physical  ability  to  form  the  re 
quisite  pen-strokes,  the  notion  of  waiting  for  a  brighter  day,  or  a  happier 
frame  of  mind,  appears  fantastic  and  absurd.  He  would  as  soon  think  of 
waiting  for  a  change  in  the  moon.  Hence,  while  I  realized  that  her  contri 
butions  evinced  rare  intellectual  wealth  and  force,  I  did  not  value  them  as  I 
should  have  done  had  they  been  written  more  fluently  and  promptly.  They 
often  seemed  to  make  their  appearance  '  a  day  after  the  fair.' 

"  One  other  point  of  tacit  antagonism  between  us  may  as  well  be  noted. 
Margaret  was  always  a  most  earnest,  devoted  champion  of  the  Emancipation 
of  Women  from  their  past  and  present  condition  of  inferiority,  to  an  inde 
pendence  of  Men.  She  demanded  for  them  the  fullest  recognition  of  Social 
and  Political  Equality  with  the  rougher  sex  ;  the  freest  access  to  all  stations, 
professions,  employments,  which  are  open  to  any.  To  this  demand  I  heartily 
acceded.  It  seemed  to  me,  however,  that  her  clear  perceptions  of  abstract 
right  were  often  overborne,  in  practice,  by  the  influence  of  education  and 
habit ;  that  while  she  demanded  absolute  equality  for  Woman,  she  exacted  a 


258  MARGARET    FULLER. 

deference  and  courtesy  from  men  to  women,  as  women,  which  was  entirely  in 
consistent  with  that  requirement.  In  my  view,  the  equalizing  theory  can  bo 
enforced  only  by  ignoring  the  habitual  discrimination  of  men  and  women,  as 
forming  separate  classes,  and  regarding  all  alike  as  simply  persons, — as  hu 
man  beings.  So  long  as  a  lady  shall  deem  herself  in  need  of  some  gentleman's 
arm  to  conduct  her  properly  out  of  a  dining  or  ball-room, — so  long  as  she 
shall  consider  it  dangerous  or  unbecoming  to  walk  half  a  mile  alone  by  night, 
— I  cannot  see  how  the  '  Woman's  Rights '  theory  is  ever  to  be  anything  more 
than  a  logically  defensible  abstraction.  In  this  view  Margaret  did  not  at  all 
concur,  and  the  diversity  was  the  incitement  to  much  perfectly  good-natured,  but 
nevertheless  sharpish  sparring  between  us.  Whenever  she  said  or  did  anything 
implying  the  usual  demand  of  Woman  on  the  courtesy  and  protection  of  Man 
hood,  I  was  apt,  before  complying,  to  look  her  in  the  face  and  exclaim  with 
marked  emphasis, — quoting  from  her  '  Woman  in  the  Nineteenth  Century,' — 
1  LET  THEM  BE  SEA-CAPTAINS  IF  THEY  WILL  !'  Of  course,  this  was  given  and 
received  as  raillery,  but  it  did  not  tend  to  ripen  our  intimacy  or  quicken  my 
esteem  into  admiration.  Though  no  unkind  word  ever  passed  between  us, 
nor  any  approach  to  one,  yet  we  two  dwelt  for  months  under  the  same  roof,  as 
scarcely  more  than  acquaintances,  meeting  once  a  day  at  a  common  board,  and 
having  certain  business  relations  with  each  other.  Personally,  I  regarded  her 
rather  as  my  wife's  cherished  friend  than  as  my  own,  possessing  many  lofty 
qualities  and  some  prominent  weaknesses,  and  a  good  deal  spoiled  by  the  un 
measured  flattery  of  her  little  circle  of  inordinate  admirers.  For  myself, 
burning  no  incense  on  any  human  shrine,  I  half-consciously  resolved  to  '  keep 
my  eye-beam  clear,'  and  escape  the  fascination  which  she  seemed  to  exert 
over  the  eminent  and  cultivated  persons,  mainly  women,  who  came  to  our 
out-of-the-way  dwelling  to  visit  her,  and  who  seemed  generally  to  regard  her 
with  a  strangely  Oriental  adoration. 

"  But  as  time  wore  on,  and  I  became  inevitably  better  and  better  acquaint 
ed  with  her,  I  found  myself  drawn,  almost  irresistibly,  into  the  general  cur 
rent.  I  found  that  her  faults  and  weaknesses  were  all  superficial  and  obvious 
to  the  most  casual,  if  undazzled,  observer.  They  rather  dwindled  than  ex 
panded  upon  a  fuller  knowledge  {  or  rather,  took  on  new  and  brighter  aspects 
in  the  light  of  her  radiant  and  lofty  soul.  I  learned  to  know  her  as  a  most 
fearless  and  unselfish  champion  of  Truth  and  Human  Good  at  all  hazards, 
ready  to  be  their  standard-bearer  through  danger  and  obloquy,  and  if  need  be, 
»heir  martyr.  I  think  few  have  more  keenly  appreciated  the  material  goods 
of  life, — Rank,  Riches,  Power,  Luxury,  Enjoyment  ;  but  I  know  none  who 
would  have  more  cheerfully  surrendered  them  all,  if  the  well-being  of  our 
Race  could  thereby  have  been  promoted.  I  have  never  met  another  in 
whom  the  inspiring  hope  of  Immortality  was  so  strengthened  into  profound- 
est  conviction.  She  did  not  believe  in  our  future  and  unending  existence, — 
she  knew  it,  and  'ived  ever  in  the  broad  glare  of  its  morning  twilight.  Will 


HEU    WRITINGS.  259 

a  limited  income  and  liberal  wants,  she  was  yet  generous  beyond  the  bounds 
of  reason.  Had  the  gold  of  California  been  all  her  own,  shr  would  have  dis 
bursed  nine-tenths  of  it  in  eager  and  well-directed  efforts  to  stay,  or  at  least 
diminish,  the  flood  of  human  misery.  And  it  is  but  fair  to  state,  that  the  lib 
erality  she  evinced  was  fully  paralleled  by  the  liberality  she  experienced  ai 
the  hands  of  others.  Had  she  needed  thousands,  and  made  her  wants  known, 
she  had  friends  who  would  have  cheerfully  supplied  her.  I  think  few  persons, 
in  their  pecuniary  dealings,  have  experienced  and  evinced  more  of  the  bettel 
qualities  of  human  nature  than  Margaret  Fuller.  She  seemed  to  inspire 
those  who  approached  her  with  that  generosity  which  was  a  part  of  her 
nature. 

"  Of  her  writings  I  do  not  propose  to  speak  critically.  I  think  most  of  her 
contributions  to  the  Tribune,  while  she  remained  with  us,  were  characterized  by 
a  directness,  terseness,  and  practicality,  which  are  wanting  in  some  of  her 
earlier  productions.  Good  judges  have  confirmed  my  own  opinion,  that  while 
her  essays  in  the  Dial  are  more  elaborate  and  ambitious,  her  reviews  in  the 
Tribune  are  far  better  adapted  to  win  the  favor  and  sway  the  judgment  of  the 
great  majority  of  readers.  But,  one  characteristic  of  her  writings  1  feel 
bound  to  commend, — their  absolute  truthfulness.  She  never  asked  how  this 
would  sound,  nor  whether  that  would  do,  nor  what  would  be  the  effect  of  say 
ing  anything  ;  but  simply,  '  Is  it  the  truth  1  Is  it  such  as  the  public  should 
know?'  And  if  her  judgment  answered,  'Yes,'  she  uttered  it;  no  matter 
what  turmoil  it  might  excite,  nor  what  odium  it  might  draw  down  on  her  own 
head.  Perfect  conscientiousness  was  an  unfailing  characteristic  of  her  literary 
efforts.  Even  the  severest  of  her  critiques, — that  on  Longfellow's  Poems, — 
for  which  an  impulse  in  personal  pique  has  been  alleged,  I  happen  with  cer 
tainty  to  know  had  no  such  origin.  When  I  first  handed  her  the  book  to  re 
view,  she  excused  herself,  assigning  the  wide  divergence  of  her  views  of  Po 
etry  from  those  of  the  author  and  his  school,  as  her  reason.  She  thus  induced 
me  to  attempt  the  task  of  reviewing  it  myself.  But  day  after  day  sped  by, 
and  I  could  find  no  hour  that  was  not  absolutely  required  for  the  performance 
of  some  duty  that  would  not  be  put  off,  nor  turned  over  to  another.  At  length 
I  carried  the  book  back  to  her  in  utter  despair  of  ever  finding  an  hour  in 
which  even  to  look  through  it ;  and,  at  my  renewed  and  earnest  request,  she 
reluctantly  undertook  its  discussion.  The  statement  of  these  facts  is  but  an 
act  of  justice  to  her  memory. 

"  Profoundly  religious, — though  her  creed  was,  at  once,  very  broad  and  very 
Bhort,  with  a  genuine  love  for  inferiors  in  social  position,  whom  she  was  habit 
ually  studying,  by  her  counsel  and  teachings,  to  elevate  and  improve, — she 
won  the  confidence  and  affection  of  those  who  attracted  her,  by  unbounded 
rympathy  and  trust.  She  probably  knew  the  cherished  secrets  of  more  hearts 
than  any  one  else,  because  she  freely  imparted  her  own.  With  a  full  share 
both  of  intellectual  and  of  family  pride,  she  pre-eminently  recognized  and  re- 


260  MARGARET    FULLER, 

Bponded  to  ,he  essential  brotherhood  of  all  human  kind,  *.ad  needed  br  /o 
know  that  a  fellow-being  required  her  counsel  or  assistance,  to  render  her,  jot 
merely  willing,  but  eager  to  impart  it.  Loving  ease,  luxury,  and  the  world's 
good  opinion,  she  stood  ready  to  renounce  them  all,  at  the  call  of  pity  or  of 
duty.  I  think  no  one,  not  radically  averse  to  the  whole  system  of  domestic 
servitude,  would  have  treated  servants,  of  whatever  class,  with  such  uniform 
and  thoughtful  consideration, — a  regard  which  wholly  merged  their  factitious 
condition  in  their  antecedent  and  permanent  humanity.  I  think  few  servants 
ever  lived  weeks  with  her,  who  were  not  dignified  and  lastingly  benefited  by 
her  influence  and  her  counsels  They  might  be  at  first  repelled,  by  what 
seemed  her  too  stately  manner  and  exacting  disposition,  but  they  soon  learned 
to  esteem  and  love  her. 

"  I  have  known  few  women,  and  scarcely  another  maiden,  who  had  the 
heart  and  the  courage  to  speak  with  such  frank  compassion,  in  mixed  circles, 
of  the  most  degraded  and  outcast  portion  of  the  sex.  The  contemplation  of 
'their  treatment,  especially  by  the  guilty  authors  of  their  ruin,  moved  her  to  a 
calm  and  mournful  indignation,  which  she  did  not  attempt  to  suppress  nor 
control.  Others  were  willing  to  pity  and  deplore ;  Margaret  was  more  inclined 
to  vindicate  and  to  redeem.  She  did  not  hesitate  to  avow  that  on  meeting 
come  of  these  abused,  unhappy  sisters,  she  had  been  surprised  to  find  them 
scarcely  fallen  morally  below  the  ordinary  standard  of  Womanhood, — realiz 
ing  and  loathing  their  debasement ;  anxious  to  escape  it ;  and  only  repelled 
by  the  sad  consciousness  that  for  them  sympathy  and  society  remained  oaly  so 
long  as  they  should  persist  in  the  ways  of  pollution.  Those  who  have  read 
her  '  Woman,'  may  remember  some  daring  comparisons  therein  suggested  be 
tween  these  Pariahs  of  society  and  large  classes  of  their  respectable  sisters  ; 
and  that  was  no  fitful  expression, — no  sudden  outbreak, — but  impelled  by  her 
most  deliberate  convictions.  I  think,  if  she  had  been  born  to  large  fortune,  a 
house  of  refuge  for  all  female  outcasts  desiring  to  return  to  the  ways  of 
Virtue,  would  have  been  one  of  her  most  cherished  and  first  realized  concep 
tions. 

"  Her  love  of  children  was  one  of  her  most  prominent  characteristics.  The 
pleasure  she  enjoyed  in  their  society  was  fully  counterpoised  by  that  she  im 
parted.  To  them  she  was  never  lofty,  nor  reserved,  nor  mystical ;  for  no  one 
had  ever  a  more  perfect  faculty  for  entering  into  their  sports,  their  feelings, 
their  enjoyments.  She  could  narrate  almost  any  story  in  language  level  to 
their  capacities,  and  in  a  manner  calculated  to  bring  out  their  hearty  and  often 
boisterously-expressed  delight.  She  possessed  marvelous  powers  of  observa 
tion  and  imitation  or  mimicry  ;  and,  had  she  been  attracted  to  tho  stage, 
would  have  been  the  first  actress  America  has  produced,  whether  in  tragedy  or 
comedy,  Her  faculty  of  mimicking  was  not  needed  to  commend  her  to  the 
hearts  of  children,  but  it  had  its  effect  in  increasing  the  fascinations  of  her 
genial  nature  and  her  heartfelt  joy  in  their  society.  To  amuse  and  instruct  them 


MARGARET   AND    PICKIE.  261 

was  an  achievement  for  which  she  would  readily  forego  any  personal  object ; 
and  her  intuitive  perception  of  the  toys,  games,  stories,  rhymes,  &c.,  best 
adapted  to  arrest  and  enchain  their  attention,  was  unsurpassed.  Between  her 
and  my  only  child,  then  living,  who  was  eight  months  old  when  she  came  to 
us,  and  something  over  two  years  when  she  sailed  for  Europe,  tendrils  of  af 
fection  gradually  intertwined  themselves,  which  I  trust  Death  has  not  severed, 
but  rather  multiplied  and  strengthened.  She  became  his  teacher,  playmate, 
and  monitor ;  and  he  requited  her  with  a  prodigality  of  love  and  admiration. 

"  I  shall  not  soon  forget  their  meeting  in  my  office,  after  some  weeks'  sepa 
ration,  just  before  she  left  us  forever.  His  mother  had  brought  him  in  from 
the  country,  and  left  him  asleep  on  my  sofa,  while  she  was  absent  making 
purchases,  a?d  he  had  rolled  off  and  hurt  himself  in  the  fall,  waking  with  the 
shock  in  a  frenzy  of  anger,  just  before  Margaret,  hearing  of  his  arrival,  rushed 
into  the  office  to  find  him.  I  was  vainly  attempting  to  soothe  him  as  she  en 
tered  ;  but  he  was  running  from  one  end  to  the  other  of  the  office,  crying  pas 
sionately,  and  refusing  to  be  pacified.  She  hastened  to  him,  in  perfect  confi 
dence  that  her  endearments  would  calm  the  current  of  his  feelings, — that  the 
sound  of  her  well-remembered  voice  would  banish  all  thought  of  his  pain, — 
and  that  another  moment  would  see  him  restored  to  gentleness ;  but,  half- 
wakened,  he  did  not  heed  her,  and  probably  did  not  even  realize  who  it  was 
that  caught  him  repeatedly  in  her  arms  and  tenderly  insisted  that  he  should 
restrain  himself.  At  last  she  desisted  in  despair ;  and,  with  the  bitter  tears 
streaming  down  her  face,  observed  : — '  Pickie,  many  friends  have  treated  me 
unkindly,  but  no  one  had  ever  the  power  to  cut  me  to  the  heart  as  you  have  !' 
Being  thus  let  alone,  he  soon  came  to  himself,  and  their  mutual  delight  in  the 
meeting  was  rather  heightened  by  the  momentary  estrangement. 

"  They  had  one  more  meeting  ;  the  last  on  earth  !  '  Aunty  Margaret'  was 
to  embark  for  Europe  on  a  certain  day,  and  '  Pickie'  was  brought  into  the  city 
to  bid  her  farewell.  They  met  this  time  also  at  my  office,  and  together  we 
thence  repaired  to  the  ferry-boat,  on  which  she  was  returning  to  her  residence 
in  Brooklyn  to  complete  her  preparations  for  the  voyage.  There  they  took  a 
tender  and  affecting  leave  of  each  other.  But  soon  his  mother  called  at  the 
office,  on  her  way  to  the  departing  ship,  and  we  were  easily  persuaded  to  ac 
company  her  thither,  and  say  farewell  once  more,  to  the  manifest  satisfaction 
of  both  Margaret  and  the  youngest  of  her  devoted  friends.  Thus  they  parted, 
never  to  meet  again  in  time.  She  sent  him  messages  and  presents  repeatedly 
from  Europe  ;  and  he,  when  somewhat  older,  dictated  a  letter  in  return,  which 
was  joyfully  received  and  acknowledged.  When  the  mother  of  our  great- 
eouled  friend  spent  some  days  with  us  nearly  two  years  afterward,  '  Pickie' 
talked  to  her  often  and  lovingly  of  '  Aunty  Margaret,'  proposing  that  they  two 
should  '  take  a  boat  and  go  over  and  see  her,' — for,  to  his  infantile  conception, 
the  low  coast  of  Long  Island,  visible  just  across  the  East  River,  was  that  Eu 
rope  to  which  sho  had  sailed,  and  where  she  was  unaccountably  detained  sc 


"262  MARGARET   FULLER. 

fong.  Alas  !  a  far  longer  and  more  adventurous  journey  was  required  to  re 
unite  those  loving  souls  !  The  12th  of  July,  1849,  saw  him  stricken  down 
from  health  to  death,  by  the  relentless  cholera ;  and  my  letter,  announcing 
that  calamity,  drew  from  her  a  burst  of  passionate  sorrow,  such  as  hardly  any 
bereavement  but  the  loss  of  a  very  near  relative  could  have  impelled.  An 
other  year  had  just  ended,  when  a  calamity,  equally  sudden,  bereft  a  wide 
circle  of  her  likewise,  with  her  husband  and  infant  son.  Little  did  I  fear, 
when  I  bade  her  a  confident  Good-by,  on  the  deck  of  her  outward-bound  ship, 
that  the  sea  would  close  over  her  earthly  remains  ere  we  should  meet  again  ; 
far  less  that  the  light  of  my  eyes  and  the  cynosure  of  my  hopes,  who  then 
bade  her  a  tenderer  and  sadder  farewell,  would  precede  her  on  the  dim  path 
way  to  that '  Father's  house'  whence  is  no  returning !  Ah,  well !  God  is  above 
all,  and  gracious  alike  in  what  He  conceals  and  what  He  discloses  ; — benignant 
and  bounteous,  as  well  when  He  reclaims  as  when  He  bestows.  In  a  few  years, 
at  farthest,  our  loved  and  lost  ones  will  welcome  us  to  their  home." 

Margaret  Fuller,  on  her  part,  was  fully  sensible  of  the  merits  of 
him  who  has  so  touchingly  embalmed  her  memory.  "  Mr.  Greeley," 
she  wrote  in  a  private  letter,  "is  a  man  of  genuine  excellence,  hon 
orable,  benevolent,  and  of  an  uncorrupted  disposition.  He  is  saga 
cious,  and,  in  his  way,  of  even  great  abilities.  In  modes  of  life  and 
manner  he  is  a  man  of  the  people,  and  of  the  American  people." 
And  again ;  "  Mr.  Greeley  is  in  many  ways  very  interesting  for  me 
to  know.  He  teaches  me  things,  which  my  own  influence  on  those 
who  have  hitherto  approached  me,  has  prevented  me  from  learning. 
In  our  business  and  friendly  relations,  we  arc  on  terms  of  solid 
good-will  and  mutual  respect.  With  the  exception  of  my  own 
mother,  I  think  him  the  most  disinterestedly  generous  person  I  have 
ever  known."  And  later  she  writes :  "You  have  heard  that  the 
Tribune  Office  was  burned  to  the  ground.  For  a  day  I  thought  it 
must  make  a  difference,  but  it  has  served  only  to  increase  my  admi 
ration  for  Mr.  Greeley's  smiling  courage.  He  has  really  a  strong 
character." 

In  another  letter,  written  at  Rome  in  1849,  there  is  another  allu 
sion  to  Mr.  Greeley  and  his  darling  boy.  "  Receiving,"  she  said,  "  a 
few  days  since,  a  packet  of  letters  from  America,  I  opened  them 
with  more  feeling  of  hope  and  good  cheer,  than  for  a  long  time 
past.  The  first  words  that  met  my  eye  were  these,  in  the  hand  of 
Mr.  Greeley :  '  Ah,  Margaret,  the  world  grows  dark  with  us !  You 
grieve,  for  Rome  is  fallen ;  I  mourn,  for  Pickie  is  dead.' 


EDITORIAL   REPARTEES.  263 

"I  have  shed  rivers  of  tears  over  the  inexpressibly  aiFecting  letter 
thus  begun.  One  would  think  I  might  have  become  familiar  enough 
with  images  of  death  and  destruction;  yet  somehow  the  image  of 
Pickle's  little  dancing  figure,  lying,  stiff  and  stark,  between  his  par 
ents,  has  made  me  weep  more  than  all  else.  There  was  little  hope 
he  could  do  justice  to  himself,  or  lead  a  happy  life  in  so  perplexed 
a  world ;  but  never  was  a  character  of  richer  capacity, — never  a 
more  charming  child.  To  me  he  was  most  dear,  and  would  always 
have  been  so.  Had  he  become  stained  with  earthly  faults,  I  could 
never  have  forgotten  what  he  was  when  fresh  from  the  soul's  homo, 
and  what  he  was  to  me  when  my  soul  pined  for  sympathy,  pure 
and  unalloyed." 

A  few  months  after  these  words  were  written,  Margaret  Fuller 
saw  her  native  shores ;  but  she  was  destined  never  to  tread  them 
again.  The  vessel  in  which  she  was  a  passenger  was  wrecked  on 
tike  coast  of  Long  Island.  The  body  of  her  infant  son  was  washed 
on  shore,  but  she  and  her  husband  found  death,  burial,  requiem,  all 
in  the  deep. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

EDITORIAL      REPARTEES. 

At  war  with  all  the  world— The  spirit  of  ihe  Tribune— Retorts  vituperative— The  Tri 
bune  and  Dr.  Potts— Some  prize  tracts  suggested— An  atheist's  oath — A  word  for 
domestics— Irish  Democracy — The  modern  drama — Hit  at  Dr.  Hawks — Dissolution 
of  live  Union— Dr.  Franklin's  story— A  Picture  for  Polk— Charles  Dickens  and 
Copyright— Charge  of  Malignant  falsehood— Preaching  and  Practice— Col.  Webb 
severely  hit—  HostilSiy  to  tlie  Mexican  war — Violence  incited — A  few  sparks — The 
course  of  the  Tribune — Wager  with  the  Herald. 

THE  years  1845,  1846,  and  1847,  were  emphatically  the  fighting 
ye^rs  of  the  New  York  Tribune.  If  it  was  not  at  war  with  all 
the  world,  all  the  world  seemed  to  be  at  war  with  it,  and  it  was 
kept  constantly  on  the  defensive.  With  the  *  democratic'  press,  of 
course,  it  could  not  be  at  peace.  The  whig  press  of  the  city  de 
nounced  it,  really  because  it  was  immovably  prosperous,  ostensibly 


.264  EDITORIAL   REPARTEES. 

on  the  ground  of  its  Fourierite  and  progressive  tendencies.  Its  oppo 
sition  to  capital  punishment,  the  freedom  of  its  reviews,  and  the 
hospitality  it  gave  to  every  new  thought,'  gave  offense  to  the  relig 
ious  press.  Its  tremendous  hostility  to  the  Mexican  war  excited  the 
animosity  of  all  office-holders  and  other  patriots,  including  the  pres 
ident,  who  made  a  palpahle  allusion  to  the  course  of  the  Tribune  in 
one  of  his  messages.  There  was  talk  even  of  mobbing  the  office, 
at  one  of  the  war  meetings  in  the  Park.  Its  zeal  in  behalf  of  Irish 
repeal  alienated  the  English  residents,  who  naturally  liked  the 
'pluck'  and  independence  of  the  Tribune.  Its  hostility  to  the  slave 
power  provoked  the  south,  and  all  but  destroyed  its  southern  cir 
culation.  It  offended  bigots  by  giving  Thomas  Paine  his  due ;  it 
offended  unbelievers  by  refusing  to  give  him  more.  Its  opposition 
to  the  drama,  as  it  is,  called  forth  many  a  sneer  from  the  papers 
who  have  the  honor  of  the  drama  in  their  special  keeping.  The 
extreme  American  party  abhorred  its  enmity  to  Nativism.  The 
extreme  Irish  party  distrusted  it,  because  in  sentiment  and  feeling 
it  was  thoroughly  Protestant.  The  extreme  liberal  party  disliked 
its  opposition  to  their  views  of  marriage  and  divorce.  In  a  word, 
if  the  course  of  the  Tribune  had  been  suggested  by  a  desire  to  give 
the  greatest  offense  to  the  greatest  number,  it  could  hardly  have 
made  more  enemies  than  it  did. 

In  the  prospectus  to  the  fifth  volume,  the  editor  seemed  to  antici 
pate  a  period  of  inky  war. 

"  Our  conservatism,"  he  said,  "  is  not  of  that  Chinese  tenacity  which  insists 
that  the  bad  must  be  cherished  simply  because  it  is  old.  We  insist  only  that 
the  old  must  be  proved  bad  and  never  condemned  merely  because  it  is  old  ; 
and  that,  even  if  defective,  it  should  not  be  overthrown  till  something  better 
has  been  provided  to  replace  it.  The  extremes  of  blind,  stubborn  resistance 
to  change,  and  rash,  sweeping,  convulsive  innovation,  are  naturally  allias,  each 
paving  the  way  for  the  other.  The  supple  courtier,  the  wholesale  flatterer  of 
the  Despot,  and  the  humble  servitor  and  bepraiser  of  the  dear  People,  are  not 
two  distinct  characters,  but  essentially  the  same.  Thus  believing,  we,  while 
we  do  not  regard  the  judgment  of  any  present  majority  as  infallible,  cannot 
attribute  infallibility  to  any  acts  or  institutes  of  a  past  generation,  but  look  un- 
doubtingly  for  successive  improvements  as  Knowledge,  Virtue,  Philanthropy, 
shall  be  more  and  more  diffused  among  men. 

********* 

"  Full  of  error  and  suffering  as  the  world  yet  is,  we  cannot  afford  to  reject 


THE    SPIRIT    OF   THE   TRIBUNE.  265 

aneramined  any  idea  which  proposes  to  improve  the  Moral,  Intellectual,  or 
Social  condition  of  mankind.  Better  incur  the  trouble  of  testing  and  explod 
ing  a  thousand  fallacies  than  by  rejecting  stifle  a  single  beneficent  truth.  Es 
pecially  on  the  vast  theme  of  an  improved  Organization  of  Industry,  so  as  to 
secure  constant  opportunity  and  a  just  recompense  to  every  human  being  able 
fcnd  willing  to  labor,  we  are  not  and  cannot  be  indifferent. 

********* 

"  No  subject  can  be1  more  important  than  this ;  no  improvement  more  cer 
tain  of  attainment.  The  plans  hitherto  suggested  may  all  prove  abortive ; 
the  experiments  hitherto  set  on  foot  may  ail  come  to  nought,  (as  many  of 
them  doubtless  will ;)  yet  these  mistakes  shall  serve  to  indicate  the  true  means 
of  improvement,  and  these  experiments  shall  bring  nearer  and  nearer  the 
grand  consummation  which  they  contemplate.  The  securing  of  thorough  Edu 
cation,  Opportunity  and  just  Reward  to  all,  cannot  be  beyond  the  reach  of 
the  nineteenth  century.  To  accelerate  it,  the  Tribune  has  labored  and  will 
labor  resolutely  and  hopefully.  Those  whose  dislike  to  or  distrust  of  the  in 
vestigations  in  this  field  of  human  effort  impel  them  to  reject  our  paper,  have 
ample  range  for  a  selection  of  journals  more  acceptable." 

la  the  spirit  of  these  words  the  Tribune  was  conducted.  And 
every  man,  in  any  age,  who  conducts  his  life,  his  newspaper,  or  his 
business  in  that  spirit,  will  be  misunderstood,  distrusted  and  hated, 
ia  exact  proportion  to  his  fidelity  to  it.  Perfect  fidelity,  the  world 
will  so  entirely  detest  that  it  will  destroy  the  man  who  attains  to  it. 
The  world  will  not  submit  to  be  so  completely  pat  out  of  counte 
nance. 

My  task,  in  this  chapter,  is  to  show  how  the  editor  of  the  Tri 
bune  comported  himself  when  he  occupied  the  position  of  target- 
general  to  the  Press,  Pulpit,  and  Stump  of  the  United  States.  He 
was  not  in  the  slightest  degree  distressed  or  alarmed.  On  the  con 
trary,  I  think  he  enjoyed  the  position;  and,  though  he  handled  his 
enemies  without  gloves,  and  called  a  spade  a  spade,  and  had  to  dis 
patch  a  dozen  foemen  at  once,  and  could  not  pause  to  select  his 
weapons,  yet  I  can  find  in  those  years  of  warfare  no  trace  of  bitter 
ness  on  his  part.  There  is  no  malice  in  his  satire,  no  spite  in  his 
anger.  He  seems  never  so  happy  as  when  he  is  at  bay,  and  is  never 
so  funny  as  when  he  is  repelling  a  personal  assault.  I  have  before 
me  several  hundreds  of  his  editorial  hits  and  repartees,  some  serious, 
more  comic,  some  refuting  argument,  others  exposing  slander,  som« 
merely  vituperative,  others  ?  ery  witty,  all  extremely  readable, 

12 


266  EDITORIAL   REPARTEES. 

though  the  occasions  that  called  them  forth  have  I  ng  passed  by. 
My  plan  is  to  select  and  condense  a  few  of  each  kind,  presenting 
only  the  point  of  each. 

Many  of  onr  editor's  replies  are  remarkable  chiefly  for  their  4free 
and  easy'  manner,  their  ignoring  of  l  editorial  dignity.'  A  specimen 
or  two : 

In  reply  to  a  personal  attack  by  Major  Noah,  of  the  Union,  he 
begins,  "  We  ought  not  to  notice  this  old  villain  again."  On  another 
occasion,  "  What  a  silly  old  joker  this  last  hard  bargain  of  Tylerism 
is!"  On  another,  "Major  Noah!  why  won't  you  tell  the  truth  once 
in  a  century,  for  the  variety  of  the  thing."  On  another,  "  And  it  is 
by  such  poor  drivel  "as  this  that  the  superannuated  renegade  from 
all  parties  and  all  principles  attempts  to  earn  his  forced  contribu 
tions  and  'Official7  advertisements!  Surely  his  latest  purchasers 
must  despise  their  worn-out  tool,  and  most  heartily  repent  of  their 
hard  bargain." 

Such  mild  openings  as  the  following  are  not  uncommon  : 

"The  Journal  of  Commerce  is  the  most  self-complacent  and  dogmatic  of 
all  possible  newspapers." 

"  The  villain  who  makes  this  charge  against  me  well  knows  that  it  is  the 
basest  falsehood;" 

"We' defy  the  Father'  of  lies  himself  to  crowd  more  stupendous  falsehoods 
into  a  paragraph  than  this  contains." 

"  Mr.  Benton  !  each  of  the  above  observations  is  a  deliberate  falsehood,  and 
you  are  an  unqualified  villain  !" 

''  The  Express  is  surely  the  basest  and  paltriest  of  all  possible  journals." 

"  Having  been  absent  from  the  city  for  a  few  days,  I  perceive  with  a  pleas 
urable  surprise  on  my  return  that  the  Express  has  only  perpetrated  two  Jew 
calumnies  upon  me  of  any  consequence  since  Friday  evening." 

"  'Ephraim,'  said  a  grave  divine,  taking  his  text  from  one  of  the  prophets, 
1  is  a  cake  not  turned.  (Hosea,  vii.  8.)  Let  us  proceed,  therefore,  brethren, 
to  turn  Ephraim — first,  inside  out ;  next,  back-side  before  ;  and,  thirdly, 
'tother  end  up.' 

•'  We  are  under  the  imperative  necessity  of  performing  on  Samuel  of  this 
day  a  searching  operation  like  unto  that  of  the  parson  on  Ephraim  of  old." 

That  will  suffice  for  the  vituperative.  We  proceed  to  those  of 
another  description : 


THE   TRIBUNE   AND   DR.  POTTS.  267 

PRO  V  O  OAT ION. 

A  Sermon  by  Dr.  Potts,  denouncing  the  Tribune  as  agrarian,  &c., 
reported  in  the  Courier  and  Enquirer. 

REPLY. 

"  It  is  quite  probable  that  we  have  some  readers  among  the  pew-holders 
of  a  church  so  wealthy  and  fashionable  as  the  Dr.'s,  though  few,  we  presume, 
among  divines  as  well  salaried  as  he  is.  We  will  only  ask  those  of  our  patrons 
who  may  obey  his  command  to  read  for  their  next  Scripture  lesson  the  xxvth 
Chapter  of  Leviticus,  and  reflect  upon  it  for  an  hour  or  so.  We  are  very  sure 
they  will  find  the  exercise  a  profitable  one,  in  a  sense  higher  than  they  will 
have  anticipated.  Having  then  stopped  the  Tribune,  they  will  meditate  at 
leisure  on  the  abhorrence  and  execration  with  which  one  of  the  Hebrew  Proph 
ets  must  have  regarded  any  kind  of  an  Agrarian  or  Anti-Renter ;  that  is, 
one  opposed  to  perpetuating  and  extending  the  relation  of  Landlord  and 
Tenant  over  the  whole  arable  surface  of  the  earth.  Perhaps  the  contempla 
tion  of  a  few  more  passages  of  Sacred  Writ  may  not  be  unprofitable  in  a  moral 
sense — for  example  : 

" '  Woe  unto  them  that  join  [add]  house  to  house,  that  lay  field  to  field 
that  there  be  no  place,  that  they  be  placed  alone  in  the  midst  of  the  earth.' 
—Isaiah,  v.  8. 

"  '  One  thing  thou  lackest :  go  thy  way,  sell  whatever  thou  hast,  and  give 
to  the  poor,  and  thou  shalt  have  treasure  in  heaven  ;  and  come,  take  up  the 
the  cross,  and  follow  me  : 

"  '  And  Jesua  looked  round  about,  and  saith  unto  his  disciples,  How  hardly 
shall  they  that  have  riches  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God !' — Mark,  x.  21-23. 

"  '  And  all  that  believed  were  together,  and  had  all  things  common  ;  and 
Bold  their  possessions  and  goods,  and  parted  them  to  all,  as  every  man  had 
need.'— Acts,  ii.  44,  45. 

"  We  might  cite  columns  of  this  sort  from  the  Sacred  Volume,  showing  a 
deplorable  lack  of  Doctors  of  Divinity  in  ancient  times,  to  be  employed  at 
$3,500  a  year  in  denouncing,  in  sumptuous,  pew-guarded  edifices  costing 
$75,000  each,  all  who  should  be  guilty  of  c  loosening  the  faith  of  many  in  the 
established  order  of  things.'  Alas  for  their  spiritual  blindness  !  the  ancient 
Prophets — GOD'S  Prophets — appear  to  have  slight  faith  in  or  reverence  for 
that  '  established  order'  themselves  !  Their  '  schemes'  appear  to  have  been 
regarded  as  exceedingly  '  disorganizing'  and  hostile  to  'good  order*  by  the 
spiritual  rulers  of  the  people  in  those  days. 

"That  Dr.  Potts,  pursuing  (we  trust)  the  career  most  congenial  to  his  feel 
ings,  surrounded  by  every  comfort  and  luxury,  enjoying  the  best  society,  and 
enabled  to  support  and  educate  his  children  to  the  bight  of  his  desires,  should 
S>e  inclined  to  reprobate  all  { nostrums '  for  the  cure  of  Social  evils,  and  sneer 


268  EDITORIAL   REPARTEES. 

at  'labor-saving  plans  '  of  cooking,  washing,  schooling,  Ac.,  is  rather  deplora 
ble  than  surprising.  Were  he  some  poor  day- laborer,  subsisting  hia  family 
and  paying  rent  on  the  dollar  a  day  he  could  get  when  the  weather  permitted 
and  some  employer's  necessity  or  caprice  gave  him  a  chance  to  Barn  it,  we  be 
lieve  he  would  view  the  subject  differently.  As  to  the  spirit  which  can  de 
nounce  by  wholesale  all  who  labor  in  behalf  of  a  Social  Reform,  in  defiance 
of  general  obloquy,  rooted  prejudice,  and  necessarily  serious,  personal  sacri 
fices,  as  enemies  of  Christianity  and  Good  Morals,  and  call  upon  the  public  to 
starve  them  into  silence,  does  it  not  merit  the  rebuke  and  loathing  of  every 
generous,  mind?  Heaven  aid  us  to  imitate,  though  afar  off,  that  Divinest 
charity  which  could  say  for  its  persecutors  and  murderers,  '  Father,  forgive 
them,  for  they  know  not  what  they  do !' 

*  #  #  #  *  #  #.#  * 

"  We  are  profoundly  conscious  that  the  moral  tone  and  bearing  of  the  Press 
fall  very  far  beneath  their  true  standard,  and  that  it  too  often  panders  to  pop 
ular  appetites  and  prejudices  when  it  should  rather  withstand  and  labor  to  cor 
rect  them.  We,  for  example,  remember  having  wasted  many  precious  col 
umns  of  this  paper,  whereby  great  good  might  have  been  done,  in  the  publi 
cation  of  a  controversy  on  the  question,  'Can  there  be  a  Church  without  a 
Bishop  ?' — a  controversy  unprofitable  in  its  subject,  verbose  and  pointless  in  its 
logic,  and  disgraceful  to  our  common  Christianity  in  its  exhibitions  of  unchar 
itable  temper  and  gladiatorial  tactics.  The  Rev.  Dr.  Potts  may  also  remem 
ber  that  controversy.  We  ask  the  Pulpit  to  strengthen  our  *»wn  fallible  reso 
lution  never  to  be  tempted  by  any  hope  of  pecuniary  profit,  (pretty  sure  to  be 
delusive,  as  it  ought,)  into  meddling  with  such  another  discreditable  per 
formance. 

"  We  do  not  find,  in  the  Courier's  report  of  this  sermon,  any  censures  upon 
that  very  large  and  popularly  respectable  class  of  journals  which  regularly 
biro  out  their  columns,  Editorial  and  Advertising,  for  the  enticement  of  their 
readers  to  visit  grogeries,  theaters,  horse-races,  as  we  sometimes  have  thought 
lessly  done,  but  hope  never,  unless  through  deplored  inadvertence,  to  do  again. 
The  difficulty  of  entirely  resisting  all  temptations  to  these  lucrative  vices  is  so 
great,  and  the  temptations  themselves  so  incessant,  while  the  moral  mischief 
thence  accruing  is  so  vast  and  palpable,  that  we  can  hardly  think  the  Rev.  Dr. 
slurred  over  the  point,  while  we  can  very  well  imagine  that  his  respected  dis 
ciple  and  reporter  did  so.  At  this  moment,  when  the  great  battle  of  Temper 
ance  against  Liquid  Poison  and  its  horrible  sorceries  is  convulsing  our  State, 
and  its  issue  trembles  in  the  balance,  it  seems  truly  incredible  that  a  Doctor 
of  Divinity,  lecturing  on  the  iniquities  of  the  Press,  can  have  altogether  over 
looked  this  topic.  Cannot  the  Courier  from  its  reporter's  notes  supply  the 
omission  ?" 

PROVOCATION. 

An  advertisement  offering  a  prize  of  fifty  dollars  for  the  best 


SOME    PRIZE    TRACTS   SUGGESTED.  269 

tract  4  n  the  Impropriety  of  Dancing  by  members  of  churches,  tho 
tract  to  be  published  by  the  American  Tract  Society. 

REPLY. 

"  The  notice  copied  above  suggests  to  us  some  other  subjects  on  which  we 
think  Tracts  are  needed — subjects  which  are  beginning  to  attract  the  thoughts 
of  not  a  few,  and  which  are,  like  dancing,  of  practical  moment.  We  would 
suggest  premiums  to  be  offered,  as  follows : 

"  $20  for  the  best  Tract  on  'The  rightfulness  and  consistency  of  a  Chris 
tian's  spending  $5,000  to  $10,000  a  year  on  the  appetites  and  enjoyments  of 
himself  and  family,  when  there  are  a  thousand  families  within  a  mile  of  him 
who  are  compelled  to  live  on  less  than  $200  a  year. 

"  $10  for  the  best  Tract  on  the  rightfulness  and  Christianity  of  a  Christian's 
building  a  house  for  the  exclusive  residence  of  himself  and  family,  at  a  cost 
of  $50,000  to  $100,000,  within  sight  of  a  hundred  families  living  in  hovels 
worth  less  than  $100. 

"  $5  for  the  best  Tract  on  the  Christianity  of  building  Churches  which  cost 
$100,000  each,  in  which  poor  sinners  can  only  worship  on  sufferance,  and  in 
the  most  out-of-the-way  corners. 

"  We  would  not  intimate  that  these  topics  are  by  any  means  so  important  as 
that  of  Dancing — far  from  it.  The  sums  we  suggest  will  shield  us  from  that 
imputation.  Yet  we  think  these  subjects  may  also  be  discussed  with  profit, 
and,  that  there  may  be  no  pecuniary  hindrance,  we  will  pay  the  premiums 
if  the  American  Tract  Society  will  publish  the  Tracts." 

PROVOCATION. 

An  assertion  in  the  Express,  that  th«  Tribune  bestows  u  peculiar 
commendation  upon  that  part  of  the  new  Constitution  which  take? 
away  the  necessity  of  believing  in  a  Supreme  Being,  on  the  part  of 
him  who  may  be  called  to  swear  our  lives  or  property  away." 

REPLY. 

" { The  necessity  of  believing  in  a  Supreme  Being,'  in  order  to  be  a  legal 
witness,  never  existed ;  but  only  the  necessity  of  professing  to  believe  it.  Now, 
a  thorough  villain  who  was  at  the  same  time  an  Atheist  would  be  pretty  apt 
to  keep  to  himself  a  belief,  the  avowal  of  which  would  subject  him  to  legal 
penalties  and  popular  obloquy,  but  a  sincere  honest  man,  whose  mind  had  be 
come  confused  or  clouded  with  regard  to  the  evidence  of  a  Universal  Father, 
would  be  very  likely  to  confess  his  lack  of  faith,  and  thereby  be  disabled  from 
testifying.  Such  disability  deranges  the  administration  of  justice  and  facil 
itates  the  escape  of  the  guilty." 


270  EDITORIAL   REPARTEES. 

PROVOCATION. 

An  assertion  that  it  is  false  pride,  that  makes  domestic  service  so 
abhorrent  to  American  girls. 

REPLY. 

"  You,  Madam,  who  talk  so  flippantly  of  the  folly  or  false  pride  of  our  girls, 
have  you  ever  attempted  to  put  yourself  in  their  place  and  consider  the  mat 
ter  1  Have  you  ever  weighed  in  the  balance  a  crust  and  a  garret  at  home, 
with  better  food  and  lodging  in  the  house  of  a  stranger  ?  Have  you  ever 
thought  of  the  difference  between  doing  the  most  arduous  and  repulsive  work 
for  those  you  love,  and  who  love  you,  and  doing  the  same  in  a  strange  place 
for  those  to  whom  your  only  bond  of  attachment  is  six  dollars  a  month ') 
Have  you  ever  considered  that  the  words  of  reproof  and  reproach,  so  easy  to 
utter,  are  very  hard  to  bear,  especially  from  one  whose  right  so  to  treat  you 
is  a  thing  of  cash  and  of  yesterday  1  Is  the  difference  between  freedom  and 
service  nothing  to  you  7  How  many  would  you  like  to  have  ordering  you  7" 


PROVOCATION. 

A  vain-glorious  claim  to  pure  democracy  on  the  part  of  a  pro- 
slavery  Irish  paper. 


"  We  like  Irish  modesty— it  is  our  own  sorir— but  Irish  ideas  of  Liberty  are 
not  always  so  thorough  and  consistent  as  we  could  wish  them.  To  hate  and 
resist  the  particular  form  of  Oppression  to  which  we  have  been  exposed,  by 
which  we  have  suffered,  is  so  natural  and  easy  that  we  see  little  merit  in  it ; 
to  loathe  and  defy  all  Tyranny  evermore,  is  what  few  severe  sufferers  by  Op 
pression  ever  attain  to.  Ages  of  Slavery  write  their  impress  on  the  souls  of 
the  victims — we  must  not  blame  them,  therefore,  but  cannot  stifle  our  con 
sciousness  nor  suppress  our  sorrow.  It  is  sad  to  see  how  readily  the  great 
mass  of  our  Irish-born  citizens,  themselves  just  escaped  from  a  galling,  de 
grading  bondage,  lend  themselves  to  the  iniquity  of  depressing  and  flouting 
the  down-trodden  African  Race  among  us — it  was  specially  sad  to  see  them 
come  up  to  the  polls  in  squads,  when  our  present  State  Constitution  was  adopt 
ed,  and  vote  in  solid  mass  against  Equal  Suffrage  to  all  Citizens,  shouting 
'  Down  with  the  Nagurs  !  Let  them  go  back  to  Africa,  where  they  belong  /' 
— for  such  was  the  language  of  Adopted  Citizens  of  one  or  two  years'  stand 
ing  with  regard  to  men  born  here,  with  their  ancestors  before  them  for  several 
generations.  We  learn  to  hate  Despotism  and  Enslavement  more  intensely 
when  wo  are  thus  confronted  by  their  ineffaceable  impress  on  the  souls  of 
too  many  of  their  victims." 


THE    MODERN   DRAMA.  271 

PROVOCATION. 

An  article  in  the  Sunday  Mercury  condemning  the  Tribune  for 
excluding  theatrical  criticism. 

EBPLY. 

"  The  last  time  but  one  that  we  visited  a  theater— it  was  from  seven  to  ten 
years  ago — we  were  insulted  by  a  ribald,  buffoon  song,  in  derision  of  total  ab 
stinence  from  intoxicating  liquors.  During  the  last  season  we  understand  that 
Mr.  Brougham — whom  we  are  specially  blamed  by  the  Mercury  for  not  help 
ing  to  a  crowded  benefit— has  made  a  very  nice  thing  of  ridiculing  Socialism. 
We  doubt  whether  any  great,  pervading  reform  has  been  effected  since  there 
was  a  stage,  which  that  stage  has  not  ridiculed,  misrepresented,  aud  held  up 
to  popular  odium.  It  is  in  its  nature  the  creature  of  the  mob— that  is,  of  the 
least  enlightened  and  least  earnest  portion  of  the  community — and  flatters  the 
prejudices,  courts  the  favor,  and  varnishes  the  vices  of  that  portion.  It  bel 
lows  lustily  for  Liberty — meaning  license  to  do  as  you  please — but  has  small 
appetite  for  self-sacrifice,  patient  industry,  and  an  unselfish  devotion  to  duty. 
We  fear  that  we  shall  not  be  able  to  like  it,  even  with  its  groggeries  and  assig 
nation-rooms  shut  up — but  without  this  we  cannot  even  begin." 

PROVOCATION. 

A  sermon  by  Dr.  Hawks  denouncing  Socialism  in  the  usual  style 
of  well-fed  thoughtlessness. 

EEPLT. 

"  If *  the  Socialists,'  as  a  body,  were  called  upon  to  pronounce  upon  the  pro 
priety  of  taking  the  property  of  certain  doctors  of  divinity  and  dividing  it 
among  the  mechanics  and  laborers,  to  whom  they  have  run  recklessly  and 
heavily  in  debt,  we  have  no  doubt  they  would  vote  very  generally  and  heartily 
in  the  affirmative." 

PROVOCATION. 

A  letter  bewailing  the  threatened  dissolution  of  the  Union. 

REPLY. 

«  The  dissolution  of  the  Union  would  not  be  the  dreadful  affair  he  repre 
sents  it.  It  would  be  a  very  absurd  act  on  the  part  of  the  seceding  party,  and 
would  work  great  inconvenience  and  embarrassment,  especially  to  the  people 
of  the  great  Mississippi  Valley.  In  time,  however,  matters  would  accommo 
date  themselves  to  the  new  political  arrange ments,  and  we  should  grow  as 
many  bushels  of  corn  to  the  acre,  and  get  as  many  yards  of  cloth  from  a  him- 


272  EDITORIAL   REPARTEES. 

dred  pounds  of  wool,  as  we  now  do.  The  Union  is  an  excellent  thing — quite 
too  advantageous  to  be  broken  up  in  an  age  so  ulil.'tarian  as  this ;  but  it  ii 
possible  to  exaggerate  even  its  blessings." 


PROVOCATION. 

An  article  in  a  Southern  paper  recommending  the  secession  of 
the  Slave  States  from  the  Union. 

REPLY. 

"  Dr.  Franklin  used  to  tell  an  anecdote  illustrative  of  his  idea  of  the  folly 
of  dueling,  substantially  thus  :  A  man  said  to  another  in  some  public  place, 
1  Sir,  I  wish  you  would  move  a  little  away  from  m»,  for  a  disagreeable  odor  pro 
ceeds  from  you.'  'Sir,'  was  the  stern  response, '  that  is  an  insult,  and  yon  must 
fight  me !'  '  Certainly,'  was  the  quiet  reply,  <  I  will  fight  you  if  you  wish 
it ;  but  I  don't  see  how  that  can  mend  the  matter.  If  you  kill  me,  I  also  shall 
Bmell  badly  ;  and  if  I  kill  you,  you  will  smell  worse  than  you  do  now.' 

"  We  have  not  yet  been  able  to  understand  what  our  Ksunioaists,  North  or 
South,  really  expect  to  gain  by  dissolving  the  Union.  *  *  *  '  Three  valu 
able  Blares  escaped,'  do  you  say  ?  Will  slaves  be  any  less  likely  to  run  away 
when  they  know  that,  once  across  Mason  and  Dixon's  line,  they  are  safe  from 
pursuit,  and  can  never  be  reclaimed  ?  c  Every  slaveholder  is  in  continual  ap- 
apprehension,'  say  you  ?  In  the  name  of  wonder,  how  is  Disunion  to  soothe 
their  nervous  excitement?  They  'won't  stand  it,'  eh?  Have  they  never 
heard  of  getting  *  out  of  the  frying-pan  into  the  fire'  9  Do  let  us  hear  how 
Slavery  is  to  be  fortified  and  perpetuated  by  Disunion  1" 

PROVOCATION. 

The  excessive  ecnfidence  of  "Whigs  in  the  election  of  Henry  day. 

REPLY. 

"  There  is  an  old  legend  that  once  on  a  time  all  the  fo.ks  in  the  world 
entered  into  an  agreement  that  at  a  specified  moment  they  would  give  one 
unanimous  shout,  just  to  see  what  a  noise  they  could  make,  and  what  tre 
mendous  effects  it  would  produce.  The  moment  came — everybody  was  ex 
pecting  to  see  trees,  if  not  houses,  thrown  down  by  the  mighty  concussion ; 
when  lo !  the  only  sound  was  made  by  a  dumb  old  woman,  whose  tongue  waa 
loosed  by  the  excitement  of  the  occasion.  The  rest  had  all  stood  with  mouths 
and  ears  wide  open  to  hear  the  great  noise,  and  so  forgot  to  make  any  ! 

"  The  moral  we  tru»t  our  Whig  friends  everywhere  will  take  to  heart." 


A    PICTURE    FOR    POLK. 


273 


PROVOCATION. 

The  passage  in  the  President's  Message  which  condemned  thof  > 
who  opposed  the  Mexican  war  as  unpatriotic. 


REPLY. 


foir 


"IS  THIS  WAR 7" 

"  MONTEREY,  Oct.  7,  1846. 

"  While  I  was  stationed  with  our  left  wing  in  one  of  the  forts, 
on  the  evening  of  the  21st,  I  saw  a  Mexican  woman  busily  en 
gaged  in  carrying  bread  and  water  to  the  wounded  men  of  both 
armies.  I  saw  this  ministering  angel  raise  the  head  of  a 
wounded  man,  give  him  water  and  food,  and  then  carefully 
bind  up  his  wound  with  a  handkerchief  she  took  from  her  own 
head.  After  having  exhausted  her  supplies,  she  went  back  to 
her  own  house  to  get  more  broad  and  water  for  others.  As  she 
was  returning  on  her  mission  of  mercy,  to  comfort  other  wound 
ed  persons,  I  heard  the  report  of  a  gun,  and  saw  the  poor  in 
nocent  creature  fall  dead !  I  think  it  was  an  accidental  shot 
that  struck  her.  I  would  not  be  willing  to  believe  otherwise. 
It  made  me  sick  at  heart,  and,  turning  from  the  scene,  I  in 
voluntarily  raised  my  eyes  towards  heaven,  and  thought,  great 
God !  and  is  this  War  ?  Passing  the  spot  next  day,  I  saw  her 
body  still  lying  there  with  the  bread  by  her  side,  and  the  broken 
gourd,  with  a  few  drops  of  water  still  in  it — emblems  of  her 
errand.  We  buried  her,  and  while  we  were  digging  her  grave, 
cannon  balls  flew  around  us  like  hail." — Cor.  Louisville  Cour. 


PROVOCATION. 

Complaints  of  Charles  Dickens'  Advocacy  of  International  Oioy 
right  at  public  dinners. 

REPLY. 

"  We  trust  he  will  not  be  deterred  from  speaking  the  frank,  round  truth  by 
any  mistaken  courtesy,  diffidence,  or  misapprehension  of  public  sentiment. 
He  'ught  to  speak  out  on  this  matter,  for  who  shall  protest  against  robbery 

12* 


274  EDITORIAL    REPARTEES. 

if  those  who  are  robbed  may  not?  Here  is  a  man  who  writes  for  a  living 
and  writes  nobly ;  and  we  of  this  country  greedily  devour  his  writings,  are 
entertained  and  instructed  by  them,  yet  refuse  so  to  protect  his  rights  as  an 
author  that  he  can  realize  a  single  dollar  from  all  their  vast  American  sale 
and  popularity.  Is  this  right?  Do  we  look  well  offering  him  toasts,  compli 
ments,  and  other  syllabub,  while  we  refuse  him  naked  justice  1  while  we 
Bay  that  every  man  may  take  from  him  the  fruits  of  his  labors  without  recom 
pense  or  redress  1  It  does  very  well  in  a  dinner  speech  to  say  that  fame  and 
popularity,  and  all  that,  are  more  than  sordid  gold  ;  but  he  has  a  wife  and 
four  children,  whom  his  death  may  very  possibly  leave  destitute,  perhaps 
dependent  for  their  bread,  while  publishers,  who  have  grown  rich  on  his 
writings,  roll  by  in  their  carriages,  and  millions  who  have  been  instructed 
by  them  contribute  not  one  farthing  to  their  comfort.  But  suppose  him  rich, 
if  you  please,  the  justice  of  the  case  is  unaltered.  He  is  the  just  owner  of 
his  own  productions  as  much  as  though  he  had  made  axes  or  horse-shoes  ;  and 
the  people  who  refuse  to  protect  his  right,  ought  not  to  insult  him  with  the 
mockery  of  thriftless  praise.  Let  us  be  just,  and  then  generous.  Good 
reader  !  if  you  think  our  guest  ought  to  be  enabled  to  live  by  and  enjoy  the 
fruits  of  bis  talents  and  toil,  just  put  your  names  to  a  petition  for  an  Inter 
national  Copyright  Law,  and  then  you  can  take  his  hand  heartily  if  it  comes 
in  your  way,  and  say,  if  need  be,  '  I  have  done  what  is  in  my  power  to  pro 
tect  you  from  robbery  !'  The  passage  of  this  act  of  long-deferred  justice  will 
be  a  greater  tribute  to  his  worth  and  achievements  than  acres  of  inflated 
compliments  soaked  in  hogsheads  of  champagne." 

PROVOCATION. 

A  paragraph  recommending  a  provision  for  life  for  the  soldiers 
disabled  in  the  Mexican  war. 

EEPLY. 

"Uncle  Sam !  you  bedazzled  old  hedge-hog !  don't  you  see  'glory'  is  cheap 
as  dirt,  only  you  never  get  done  paying  for  it !  Forty  years  hence,  your  boys 
will  be  still  paying  taxes  to  support  the  debt  you  are  now  piling  up,  and  the 
sripples  and  other  pensioners  you  are  now  manufacturing.  How  much  more 
of  this  will  satisfy  you  ?" 

PROVOCATION. 

An  accusation  of  '  malignant  falsehood.' 

REPLY. 

"  There  lives  not  a  man  who  knows  the  editor  of  this  paper  who  can  b6 
made  to  believe  that  we  have  been  guilty  of  '  malignant  falsehood.' 


PREACHING   AND   PRACTICE.  275 

"  We  seek  no  controversy  with  the  Sun ;  but,  since  it  chooses  to  be  personal, 
ire  defy  its  utmost  industry  and  malice  to  point  out  a  single  act  of  our  life  in 
consistent  with  integrity  and  honor.  We  dare  it,  in  this  respect,  to  do  ita 
worst !" 

PROVOCATION. 

This  sentence  in  the  Express :  "  If  the  editor  of  the  Tribune  be 
lieved  a  word  of  what  he  says,  he  would  convert  his  profitable 
printing  establishment  into  a  Fourier  common-stock  concern." 

EEPLY. 

"  If  our  adviser  will  just  point  us  to  any  passage,  rule,  maxim  or  precept  of 
Fourier  (of  whom  he  appears  to  know  so  much)  which  prescribes  a  pro  rata 
division  of  proceeds  among  all  engaged  in  producing  them,  regardless  of  abil 
ity,  efficiency,  skill,  experience,  etc.,  we  will  assent  to  almost  any  absurdity 
he  shall  dictate. 

******** 

"  As  to  '  carrying  out  his  theories  of  Fourierism,'  etc.,  he  (the  editor  of  the 
Tribune)  has  expended  for  this  specific  purpose  some  thousands  of  dollars,  and 
intends  to  make  the  same  disposition  of  more  as  soon  as  he  has  it  to  expend. 
Whether  he  ought  to  be  guided  by  his  own  judgment  or  that  of  the  Express 
man  respecting  the  time  and  manner  of  thus  testifying  his  faith,  he  will  con- 
eider  in  due  season.  He  has  never  had  a  dollar  which  was  not  the  fair  product 
of  his  own  downright  labor,  and  for  whatever  of  worldly  wealth  may  accrue 
to  him  beyond  the  needs  of  those  dependent  on  hie  efforts  he  holds  himself 
but  the  steward  of  a  kind  Providence,  and  bound  to  use  it  all  as  shall  seem 
most  conducive  to  the  good  of  the  Human  Race.  It  is  quite  probable,  how 
ever,  that  he  will  never  satisfy  the  Express  that  he  is  either  honest,  sincere, 
or  well-meaning,  but  that  is  not  material.  He  has  chosen,  once  for  all,  to  an 
swer  a  sort  of  attack  which  has  become  fashionable  with  a  certain  class  of  his 
enemies,  and  can  hardly  be  driven  to  notice  the  like  again." 

PROVOCATION, 

An  allusion  in  the  Courier  and  Enquirer  to  Mr.  Greeley's  diet, 
itttire,  socialism,  philosophy,  etc. 

REPLY. 

"  It  is  true  that  the  editor  of  the  Tribune  chooses  mainly  (not  entirely) 
vegetable  food  ;  but  he  never  troubles  his  readers  on  the  subject;  it  docs  not 
worry  them;  why  should  it  con^m  the  Colonel?  *  *  *  It  is  hard 
Cur  Philosophy  that  so  humble  a  man  shall  be  made  to  stand  as  its  exem* 


276  EDITORIAL   REPARTEES. 

plar ;  while  Christianity  is  personified  by  the  here  of  the  Sunday  duel  with 
Hon.  Tom.  Marshall ;  but  such  luck  will  happen. 

"As  to  our  personal  appearance,  it  does  seem  time  that  we  should  say  some 
thing,  to  stay  the  flood  of  nonsense  with  which  the  town  must  by  this  time  b« 
nauseated.  Some  donkey  a  while  ago,  apparently  anxious  to  assail  or  annoy 
the  editor  of  this  paper,  and  not  well  knowing  with  what,  originated  the  story 
of  his  carelessness  of  personal  appearances  ;  and  since  then  every  blockhead 
of  the  same  disposition  and  distressed  by  a  similar  lack  of  ideas,  has  repeated 
and  exaggerated  the  foolery  ;  until  from  its  origin  in  the  Albany  Microscope 
it  has  sunk  down  at  last  to  the  columns  of  the  Courier  and  Enquirer,  growing 
more  absurd  at  every  landing.  Yet  all  this  time  the  object  of  this  silly  rail 
lery  has  doubtless  worn  better  clothes  than  two-thirds  of  those  who  thus  as 
sailed  him — better  than  any  of  them  could  honestly  wear,  if  they  paid  their 
debts  otherwise  than  by  bankruptcy ;  while,  if  they  are  indeed  more  cleanly 
than  he,  they  must  bathe  very  thoroughly  not  less  than  twice  a  day.  The 
editor  of  the  Tribune  is  the  son  of  a  poor  and  humble  farmer ;  came  to  New 
York  a  minor,  without  a  friend  within  200  miles,  less  than  ten  dollars  in  his 
pocket,  and  precious  little  besides ;  he  has  never  had  a  dollar  from  a  relative, 
and  has  for  years  labored  under  a  load  of  debt,  (thrown  on  him  by  others' 
misconduct  and  the  revulsion  of  1837,)  which  he  can  now  just  see  to  the  end 
of.  Thenceforth  he  may  be  able  to  make  a  better  show,  if  deemed  essential 
by  his  friends  ;  for  himself,  he  has  not  much  time  or  thought  to  bestow  on  the 
matter.  That  he  ever  affected  eccentricity  is  most  untrue ;  and  certainly  no 
costume  he  ever  appeared  in  would  create  such  a  sensation  in  Broadway  as 
that  James  Watson  Webb  would  have  worn  but  for  the  clemency  of  Governor 
Seward.  Heaven  grant  our  assailant  may  never  hang  with  such  weight  on 
another  Whig  Executive !  We  drop  him." 

(Colonel  Webb  had  been  sentenced  to  two  years'  imprisonment 
for  fighting  a  duel.  Governor  Seward  pardoned  him  before  he  had 
served  one  day  of  his  term.) 

PROVOCATION. 

A  charge  of  *  infidelity,'  in  the  Express. 

REPLY. 

"  The  editor  of  the  Tribune  has  never  been  anything  else  than  a  believer 
in  the  Christian  Religion,  and  has  for  many  years  been  a  member  of  a  Chria 
tian  Church.  He  never  wrote  or  uttered  a  syllable  in  favor  of  Infidelity 
But  truth  is  lost  on  the  Express,  which  can  never  forgive  us  the  '  Infidel 
ity'  of  circulating  a  good  nuny  more  copies,  Daily  and  Weekly,  than  are 
taken  of  that  paper." 


COL.  WEBB    SEVEBEL  t  HIT.  277 

PROVOCATION. 

Letters  complaining  of  the  Tribune's  hostility  to  the  Mexican  war 

EEPLT. 

"  Our  faith  is  strong  and  clear  that  we  serve  our  country  best  by  obeying 
our  Maker  in  all  things,  and  that  He  requires  us  to  bear  open,  unequivocal 
testimony  against  every  iniquity,  however  specious,  and  to  expose  every  lying 
pretense  whereby  men  are  instigated  to  imbrue  their  hands  in  each  other's 
blood.  We  do  not  believe  it  possible  that  our  country  can  be  prospered  in  such 
a  war  as  this.  It  may  be  victorious ;  it  may  acquire  immense  accessions  of 
territory  ;  but  these  victories,  these  acquisitions,  will  prove  fearful  calamities, 
by  sapping  the  morals  of  our  people,  inflating  them  with  pride  and  corrupting 
them  with  the  lust  of  conquest  and  of  gold,  and  leading  them  to  look  to  the 
Commerce  of  the  Indies  and  the  Dominion  of  the  Seas  for  those  substantial 
blessings  which  follow  only  in  the  wake  of  peaceful,  contented  Labor.  So  sure 
as  the  Universe  has  a  Ruler  will  every  acre  of  territory  we  acquire  by  this 
war  prove  to  our  Nation  a  curse  and  the  source  of  infinite  calamities." 

PROVOCATION. 

An  attempt  on  the  part  of  Col.  Webb  to  excite  violence  against 
the  Tribune  and  its  editor. 

REPLY. 

"  This  is  no  new  trick  on  the  part  of  the  Courier.  It  is  not  the  first  nor  the 
second  time  that  it  has  attempted  to  excite  a  mob  to  violence  and  outrage 
against  those  whom  it  hates.  In  July,  1834,  when,  owing  to  its  ferocious  de 
nunciations  of  the  Abolitionists,  a  furious  and  law-defying  mob  held  virtual 
possession  of  our  city,  assaulting  dwellings,  churches  and  persons  obnoxious  to 
its  hate,  and  when  the  Mayor  called  out  the  citizens  by  Proclamation  to  assist 
in  restoring  tranquillity,  the  Courier  (llth  July)  proclaimed: 

" '  It  is  time,  for  the  reputation  of  the  city,  and  perhaps  for  the  welfare  of 
themselves,  that  these  Abolitionists  and  Amalgamationists  should  know  the 
ground  on  which  they  stand.  They  are,  we  learn,  always  clamorous  with  the 
Police  for  protection,  and  demand  it  as  a  right  inherent  to  their  characters  as 
American  citizens.  Now  we  tell  them  that,  when  they  openly  and  publicly 
outrage  public  feeling,  they  have  no  right  to  demand  protection  from  the  Peo 
ple  they  thus  insult.  When  they  endeavor  to  disseminate  opinions  which,  if 
generally  imbibed,  must  infallibly  destroy  our  National  Union,  and  produce 
scenes  of  blood  and  carnage  horrid  to  think  of;  when  they  thus  preach  up 
treason  and  murder,  the  eegis  of  the  Law  indignantly  withdraws  its  shelter 
from  them 


278  EDITORIAL   REPARTEES. 

' '  WheD  they  vilify  our  religion  by  classing  the  Redeemer  of  the  world  in 
the  lowest  grade  of  the  human  species  ;  when  they  debase  the  noble  race  from 
which  we  spring — that  race  which  called  civilization  into  existence,  and  from 
which  have  proceeded  all  the  great,  the  brave,  and  the  good  that  have  ever 
lived — and  place  it  in  the  same  scale  as  the  most  stupid,  ferocious  and  cow 
ardly  of  the  divisions  into  which  the  Creator  has  divided  mankind,  then  they 
place  themselves  beyond  the  pale  of  all  law,  for  they  violate  every  law,  divine 
and  human.  Ought  not,  we  ask,  our  City  authorities  to  make  them  understand 
this ;  to  tell  them  that  they  prosecute  their  treasonable  and  beastly  plans  at 
their  own  peril  ?' 

"  Such  is  the  man,  such  the  means,  by  which  he  seeks  to  bully  Freemen  out 
of  the  rights  of  Free  Speech  and  Free  Thought.  There  are  those  who  cower 
before  his  threats  and  his  ruffian  appeals  to  mob  violence — here  is  one  who 
never  will !  AH  the  powers  of  Land-jobbing  and  Slave-jobbing  cannot  drive 
us  one  inch  from  the  ground  we  have  assumed  of  determined  and  open  hostil 
ity  to  this  atrocious  war,  its  contrivers  aud  abettors.  Let  those  who  threaten 
us  with  assassination  understand,  once  for  all,  that  we  pity  while  we  despise 
their  baseness." 

PROVOCATION. 

The  following,  from  the  Express :  **  For  woman  we  think  the 
fittest  place  is  home,  l  sweet  home  '-^-by  her  own  fireside  and  among 
her  own  children ;  but  the  Tribune  would  put  her  in  trowsers,  or 
on  stilts  as  a  public  woman,  or  tumble  her  pell-mell  into  some  Fou 
rier  establishment." 

REPLY. 

The  following,  from  the  Express  of  the  same  date :  "  At  the  Park  this  even 
ing  the  graceful  Augusta,  (whose  benefit,  last  night,  notwithstanding  the 
weather,  was  fashionably  and  numerously  attended,)  takes  her  leave  of  us  for 
the  present.  We  can  add  nothing  to  what  we  have  already  said  in  praise  of 
this  charming  artist's  performances,  farther  than  to  express  the  hope  that  it 
may  not  be  long  ere  we  are  again  permitted  to  see  her  upon  our  boards.  As 
in  beauty,  grace,  delicacy,  and  refinement,  she  stands  alone  in  her  profession, 
BO  in  private  life  she  enjoys,  and  most  justly,  too,  the  highest  reputation  in  all 
her  relations." 

PROVOCATION. 

To  what  a  low  degree  of  debasement  must  the  Coons  have  indeed 
fallen,  when  even  so  notorious  a  reprobate  as  Nick  Biddle  is  disgust 
ed  with  them. — Plebeian. 

REPLY. 

"  All  the  'notorious  reprobates  '  in  the  country  were  (  disgusted*  with  the 
Whigs  long  ago.  They  have  found  their  proper  resting-place  in  the  embraces 
of  Loco-Focoism." 


EXPEDIENCY.  279 

PEOVOCATION. 

Our  whole  national  debt  is  less  than  sixty  days'  interest  on  that 
}f  Great  Britain,  yet,  with  all  our  resources  the  English  call  us 
bankrupt!—  Boston  Post. 

REPLY. 

"  But  England  pays  her  interest  —  large  as  it  is  ;  and  if  our  States  will  not 
viy  even  their  debts,  small  as  they  are,  why  should  they  not  be  called 
•ankrupt?" 

PROVOCATION. 

A  charge  that  the  Tribune  sacrified  the  Right  to  the  Expedient. 

REPLY. 

"  Old  stories  very  often  have  a  forcible  application  to  present  times.  The 
tallowing  anecdote  we  met  with  lately  in  an  exchange  paper  : 

"  '  How  is  it,  John,  that  you  bring  the  wagon  home  in  such  a  condition  ?' 

"  '  1  broke  it  driving  over  a  stump.' 

"  '  Where  V 

"    Back  in  the  woods,  half  a  mile  or  so.' 

"  '  But  why  did  you  run  against  the  stump  1    Could  n't  you  see  how  to  drive 


"  1  1  did  drrve  straight,  sir,  and  that  is  the  very  reason  that  I  drove  over  it 
The  stump  was  directly  in  the  middle  of  the  road.' 

"  '  Why,  theii,  did  you  not  go  round  it  ?' 

"  c  Because,  sir,  the  stump  had  no  right  in  the  middle  of  the  road,  and  I  had 
a  right  in  it.' 

"  '  True,  Jonn,  the  stump  ought  not  to  have  been  in  the  road,  but  I  wonder 
that  you  were  so  foolish  as  not  to  consider  that  it  was  there,  and  that  it 
was  stronger  than  your  wagon.' 

"  '  Why,  father,  do  you  think  that  I  am  always  going  to  yield  up  my 
rights?  Not  I.  I  am  determined  to  stick  up  to  them,  come  what  will.' 

"  '  But  what  is  the  use,  John,  of  standing  up  to  rights,  when  you  only  get  a 
greater  wrong  by  so  doing  ?' 

"  '  I  shall  stand  up  for  them  at  all  hazards.' 

"  '  Well,  John,  all  I  have  to  say  is  this  —  hereafter  you  must  furnish  your 
own  wagon." 

PROVOCATION. 

The  applicatioB  of  the  word  '  Bah  '  to  one  of  the  Tribune's  ar 
guments. 

REPLY. 

"  We  are  quite  willing  that  every  animal  should  express  its  emotions  in  the 
language  natural  to  it" 


280  EDITORIAL    REPARTEES. 

PROVOCATION. 


Conservatism  in  general. 


REBUKE. 


"  The  stubborn  conservative  is  like  a  horse  on  board  a  ferry-boat.  The  horse 
may  back,  but  the  boat  moves  on,  and  the  animal  with  it." 

PROVOCATION. 

A  correspondent,  to  illustrate  his  position,  that  slave-owners  have 
a  right  to  move  with  their  slaves  into  new  territories,  compared 
those  territories  to  a  village  common,  upon  which  every  viilagei 
has  an  equal  right  to  let  his  animals  graze. 

REPLY. 

"  No,  sir.  A  man  may  choose  to  pasture  his  geese  upon  the  common,  which 
would  spoil  the  pasture  for  cows  and  horses.  The  other  villagers  would  bo 
right  in  keeping  out  the  geese,  even  by  violence." 

And  thus  the  Tribune  warred,  and  warring,  prospered.  Repeat 
ed  supplements,  ever-increasing  circulation,  the  frequent  omission 
of  advertisements,  all  testified  that  a  man  may  be  independent  in 
the  expression  of  the  most  unpopular  opinions,  and  yet  not  be 
4  starved  into  silence.7 

One  more  glance  at  the  three  volumes  from  which  most  of  the 
above  passages  are  taken,  and  we  accompany  our  hero  to  new 
scenes.  In  the  Fifty-four-forty-or-Fight  controversy,  the  Tribune 
of  course  took  the  side  of  peace  and  moderation.  Its  obituary  of 
General  Jackson  in  1845,  being  not  wholly  eulogistic,  called  forth 
angry  comment  from  the  democratic  press.  In  the  same  year,  it 
gave  to  the  advocates  respectively  of  phonography,  the  phonetic 
system,  and  the  magnetic  telegraph,  an  ample  hearing,  and  occa 
sional  encouragement.  In  1846,  its  Reporters  were  excluded  from 
the  gallery  of  the  House  of  Representatives,  because  a  correspond 
ent  stated,  jocularly,  that  Mr.  Sawyer,  of  Ohio,  lunched  in  the 
House  on  sausages.  The  weak  member  has  since  been  styled  Sau 
sage  Sawyer — a  name  which  he  will  put  off  only  with  his  mortal 
coil.  Throughout  the  Mexican  war,  the  Tribune  gave  all  due  honor 
to  the  gallantry  of  the  soldiers  who  fought  its  battles,  on  one  occa 
sion  defending  Gen.  Pierce  from  the  charge  of  cowardice  and  boast 
ing.  In  1847,  the  editor  made  the  tour  of  the  great  lake  country, 


WAGER   WITH    THE   HERALD.  281 

going  to  the  uttermost  parts  of  Lake  Superior,  and  writing  a  series 
of  letters  which  revealed  the  charms  and  the  capabilities  of  that 
region.  In  the  same  year  it  gave  a  complete  exposition  of  the  so- 
called  '  Revelations'  of  Mr.  Andrew  Jackson  Davis,  but  without  ex 
pressing  any  opinion  as  to  their  supernatural  origin.  War  followed, 
of  course.  To  Mr.  Whitney's  Pacific  Railroad  scheme  it  assigned 
sufficient  space.  Agassiz'  lectures  were  admirably  reported,  with 
from  ten  to  twenty  woodcuts  in  the  report  of  each  lecture.  Gen. 
Taylor's  nomination  to  the  presidency  it  descried  in  the  distance, 
and  opposed  vehemently. 

The  last  event  of  the  seventh  volume  was  the  dispute  with  the 
Herald  on  the  subject  of  the  comparative  circulation  of  the  two 
papers.  The  Tribune  challenged  the  Herald  to  an  investigation  by 
an  impartial  committee,  whose  report  each  paper  should  publish, 
and  the  losing  party  to  give  a  hundred  dollars  to  each  of  the  two 
orphan  asylums  of  the  city.  The  Herald  accepted.  The  report  of 
the  committee  was  as  follows : 

"  The  undersigned  having  been  designated  by  the  publishers  of  the  New 
York  Herald  and  New  York  Tribune,  respectively,  to  examine  jointly  and  re 
port  for  publication  the  actual  circulation  of  these  two  journals,  have  made 
the  scrutiny  required,  and  now  report,  that  the  average  circulation  of  the  two 
papers  during  the  four  weeks  preceding  the  agreement  which  originated  this 
investigation,  was  as  follows  : 
New  York  Herald. 


Average  Daily  circulation 16,71 1 

"       Weekly          "    11,455 

"       Presidential   "     780 

Total 28,946 


JVczo  York  Tribune. 

Average  Daily  circulation 1 1,455 

1       Weekly       "        15,780 

'        Semi- Weekly      960 

Total 28,195 

"  The  quantity  of  paper  used  by  each  establishment,  during  the  four  weeks 
above  specified,  was  as  follows :  By  the  New  York  Herald,  975  reams  for  the 
Daily  ;  95i  reams  for  the  Weekly,  and  5  reams  for  the  Presidential.  By  the 
New  York  Tribune,  573  reams  for  the  Daily ;  13H  reams  for  the  Weekly,  and 
16  reams  for  the  Semi- Weekly. 

"  We  therefore  decide  that  the  Herald  has  the  larger  average  circulation. 

"JAMES  G.  WILSON, 
"DANIEL  H.  MEGJE." 

The  Tribune  paid  the  money,  but  protested  that  the  '  Presidential 
Herald,'  and,  above  all,  the  Sunday  Herald,  ought  to  have  been  ex- 
eluded  from  the  comparison. 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

1848! 

Revolutions  in  Europe — The  Tribune  exults — The  Slievegammon  letters — Taylor  and 
Fillmore— Course  of  the  Tribune— Horace  Greeley  at  Vauxhall  Garden— Hii 
election  to  Congress. 

THE  Year  of  Hope !  You  have  not  forgotten,  O  reader,  the 
thrill,  the  tumult,  the  ecstasy  of  joy  with  which,  on  the  morning 
of  March  28th,  1848,  you  read  in  the  morning  papers  these  electric 
and  transporting  capitals.  Regale  your  eyes  with  them  once 
more : 

FIFTEEN  DAYS  LATER  FROM  EUROPE. 

ARRIVAL  OF  THE  CAMBRIA, 
HIGHLY  IMPORTANT   NEWS! 
ABDICATION  OF  LOUIS   PHILIPPE! 
A  REPUBLIC  PROCLAIMED. 

THE  ROYAL  FAMILY  HAVE  LEFT  PARIS, 


ASSAULT    OJV    THE    PALAIS    ROYAL. 


GBEAT   LOSS   OF  LIFE. 


COMMUNICATION  WITH  THE  INTERIOR  CUT  OFF. 

RESIGNATION    OF    MINISTERS. 
REVOLT  IN  AMIENS.-PARIS  IN  ALARM. 


What  history  is  condensed  in  these  few  words  ?  Why  has  not 
that  history  been  faithfully  and  minutely  recorded,  as  a  warning 
and  a  guide  to  the  men  of  future  revolutions  ?  Why  has  no  one 
deduced  from  the  events  of  the  last  eighty  years  a  science  of  Rev 
olution,  laid  down  the  principles  upon  which  success  is  possible, 
probable,  certain?  The  attempt,  and  not  the  deed  confounded  Eu- 


THE    SLIEVEGAMMON   LETTERS.  283 

rope,  and  condemned  her  to  more  years  of  festering  stagnation. 
"  As  I  looked  out  of  the  window  of  my  hotel,  in  Boulogne,"  says 
a  recent  traveler,  "  it  seemed  to  me  that  all  the  men  were  soldiers, 
and  that  women  did  all  the  work."  How  pitiful !  How  shameful ! 
A  million  of  men  under  arms !  The  army,  the  elite  of  the  nation  I 
One  man  of  every  ten  to  keep  the-  other  nine  in  order  !  O !  in 
finite  and  dastardly  imbecility ! 

I  need  not  say  that  the  Tribune  plunged  into  the  European  con 
tests  headlong.  It  chronicled  every  popular  triumph  with  exulta 
tion  unbounded.  One  of  the  editors  of  the  paper,  Mr.  Charles  A. 
Dana,  went  to  Europe  to  procure  the  most  authentic  and  direct  in 
formation  of  events  as  they  transpired,  and  his  letters  over  the 
well-known  initials,  '  0.  A.  D.,'  were  a  conspicuous  and  valuable 
feature  of  the  year.  Mr.  Greeley  wrote  incessantly  on  the  subject, 
blending  advice  with  exhortation,  jubilation  with  warning.  In  be 
half  of  Ireland,  his  sympathies  were  most  strongly  aroused,  and  he 
accepted  a  place  in  the  "  Directory  of  the  Friends  of  Ireland,"  to  the 
funds  of  which  he  contributed  liberally. 

It  was  in  August  of  this  year,  that  the  famous  "  Slievegammon  " 
letters  were  published.  As  frequent  allusions  to  this  amusing  affair 
are  still  made  in  the  papers,  it  may  as  well  be  explained  here.  The 
country  was  on  the  tiptoe  of  expectation  for  important  news  of  the 
Irish  rebellion.  The  steamer  arrived.  Among  the  despatches  of 
the  Tribune  were  three  letters  from  Dublin,  giving  news  not  con 
tained  in  the  newspapers.  The  Tribune  "  without  vouching  for  the 
accuracy  of  the  statements,"  made  haste  to  publish  the  letters, 
with  due  glorification.  This  is  one  of  them : 

"DUBLIN,  Aug.  3,  1848. 

"  No  newspaper  here  dare  tell  the  truth  concerning  the  battle  of  Sliere- 
namon,  but  from  all  we  can  learn,  the  people  have  had  a  great  victory.  Gen. 
Macdonald,  the  commander  of  the  British  forces,  is  killed,  and  six  thousand 
troops  are  killed  and  wounded.  The  road  for  three  miles  is  covered  with  the 
dead.  We  also  have  the  inspiring  intelligence  that  Kilkenny  and  Limerick 
have  been  taken  by  the  people.  The  people  of  Dublin  have  gone  in  thousands 
to  assist  in  the  country.  Mr.  John  B.  Dillon  was  wounded  in  both  legs.  Mr. 
Meagher  was  also  wounded  in  both  arms.  It  is  generally  expected  that  Dub' 
Un  will  rise  and  attack  the  jails  on  Sunday  night,  (Aug.  6.) 

"  All  the  people  coming  in  on  the  Railroad  are  cautioned  and  commanded 


284  TUB  YEAR  OF  HOPE. 

not  to  tell  the  news.  When  the  cars  arrive,  thousands  of  the  Dublin  people 
are  waiting  for  the  intelligence.  The  police  drive  away  those  who  are  seen 
asking  questions.  Why  all  this  care  of  the  government  to  prevent  the  spread 
of  intelligence,  unless  it  be  that  something  has  happened  which  they  want 
kept  as  a  secret  1  If  they  had  obtained  a  victory  they  would  be  very  apt  to 
let  us  know  it. 

"  We  are  informed  that  the  3d  Bluffs  (a  regiment  of  Infantry)  turned  and 
fought  with  the  people.  The  31st  regiment,  at  Athlone,  have  also  declared  for 
the  people,  and  two  regiments  have  been  sent  to  disarm  them. 

"  The  mountain  of  Slievenamon  is  almost  inaccessible.  There  is  but  one 
approach  to  it.  It  is  said  to  be  well  supplied  with  provisions.  It  was  a  glo 
rious  place  for  our  noble  Smith  O'Brien  to  select.  It  is  said  he  has  sixty 
thousand  men  around  him,  with  a  considerable  supply  of  arms,  ammunition, 
and  cannon.  In  '98,  the  rebels  could  not  be  taken  from  Slievenamon  until 
they  chose  to  come  out  themselves. 

"  A  lady  who  came  to  town  yesterday,  and  who  had  passed  the  scene  of  bat 
tle,  said  that  for  three  miles  the  stench  arising  from  the  dead  men  and  horses 
was  almost  suffocating. 

"  Wexford  was  quite  peaceable  till  recently — but  the  government  in  its  mad- 
ne&s  proclaimed  it,  and  now  it  is  in  arms  to  assist  the  cause.  Now  that  we  are 
fairly  and  spiritedly  at  it,  are  we  not  worthy  of  help  ?  What  are  you  doing 
for  us  ?  People  of  America,  Ireland  stretches  her  hand  to  you  for  assistance. 
Do  not  let  us  be  disappointed.  B." 

For  a  day  or  two,  the  Irish  and  the  friends  of  Ireland  exulted ; 
but  when  the  truth  became  known,  their  note  was  sadly  changed, 
and  the  Tribune  was  widely  accused  of  having  originated  a  hoax. 
Whereas,  it  was  only  too  innocent ! 

The  most  remarkable  feature  of  the  affair  was,  that  the  letters 
were  written  in  good  faith.  The  mind  of  Dublin  was  in  a  delirium 
of  excitement,  rumors  of  the  wildest  description  were  readily  be 
lieved,  and  the  writer  of  the  Slievegammon  letters  was  as  completely 
deceived  as  any  of  his  readers.  It  need  only  be  added,  that  Hor 
ace  Greeley  never  saw  the  letters  till  he  saw  them  in  print  in  the 
columns  of  the  Tribune ;  when  they  appeared,  he  was  touring  in 
the  uttermost  parts  of  Lake  Superior. 

This  was  the  year,  too,  of  the  Taylor  and  Fillmore  '  campaign ;' 
from  which,  however,  the  Tribune  held  obstinately  aloof  till  late  in 
the  summer.  Mr.  Greeley  had  opposed  the  nomination  of  Gen. 
Taylor  from  the  dny  it  began  to  be  agitated.  He  opposed  it  at 
the  nominating  convention  in  Philadelphia,  and  used  all  his  influ- 


THE    SLIEVEGAMMON   LEfTERS.  285 

ence  to  secure  the  nomination  of  Henry  Glay,  As  soon  as  the  final 
ballot  decided  the  contest  in  favor  of  Taylor,  he  rushed  from  the 
hall  in  disgust,  and,  on  his  return  to  New  York,  could  not  sufficient 
ly  overcome  his ;  repugnance  td  the  ticket,  to  print  it,  as  the' custom 
then  was,  at  the  head  of  his  editorial  columns.  He  ceased  to  oppose 
the  election  of  Gen,  Taylor,  but  would  do  nothing  to  promote  it. 
The  list  of  .candidates  does  not  appear,  in  the  usual  place  in  the  Tri 
bune,  as  the  regular  '  Whig  nominations,' till  the  twenty -ninth  of 
September,  and  even  then,  :our  editor  consented  to  its  appearance 
with  great  reluqtance.  Two  days  before,  a  whig  meeting  had  been 
held  at  Vauxhall  Garden,  which  Mr.  Greeley  chanced  to  attend. 
He  was  seen  by  the  crowd,  and  after  many,  and  very  vociferous 
calls,  he  made  a  short  address,  to  the  following  effect : 

"  I  trust,  fellow-citizens,  I  shall  never  be  afraid  nor  ashamed  to  meet  a 
Whig  assemblage  and  express  my  sentiments  on  the  political  questions  of  the 
day.  And  although  I  have  had  no  intimation  till  now  that  my  presence  here 
was  expected  or  desired,  I  am  the  more  ready  to  answer  your  call  since  I  have 
heard  intimations,  even  from  this  stand,  that  there  was  some  mystery  in  my 
course  to  be  cleared  up — some  astounding  revelation  with  regard  to  it  to  be 
expected.  And  our  eloquent  friend  from  Kentucky  even  volunteered,  in  hia 
remarks,  to  see  me  personally  and  get  me  right.  If  there  be  indeed  any 
mystery  in  the  premises,  I  will  do  my  best  to  dispel  it.  But  I  have,  in  truth, 
nothing  to  reveal.  I  stated  in  announcing  Gen.  Taylor's  nomination,  the  day 
after  it  was  made,  that  I  would  support  if  I  saw  no  other  way  to  defeat  the 
election  of  Lewis  Cass.  That  pledge  I  have  ever  regarded.  I  shall  faithfully 
redeem  it.  And,  since  there  is  now  no  chance  remaining  that  any  other  than 
Gen.  Taylor  or  Gen.  Cass  can  be  elected,  I  shall  henceforth  support  the  ticket 
nominated  at  Philadelphia,  and  do  what  I  can  for  its  election. 

"But  I  have  not  changed  my  opinion  of  the  nomination  of  Gen.  Taylor.  I 
believe  it  was  unwise  and  unjust.  For  Gen.  Taylor,  personally,  I  have  ever 
spoken  with  respect ;  but  I  believe  a  candidate  could  and  should  have  been 
chosen  mora  deserving,  more  capable,  more  popular.  I  cannot  pretend  to  sup 
port  him  with  enthusiasm,  for  I  do  not  feel  any. 

"  Yet  while  I  frankly  avow  that  I  would  do  little  merely  to  make  Gen.  Tay 
lor  President,  I  cannot  forget  that  others  stand  or  fall  with  him,  and  that 
among  them  are  Fillmore  and  Fish  anu  Patterson,  with  whom  I  have  battled 
for  the  Whig  cause  ever  since  T  was  entitled  to  vote,  and  to  whom  I  cannot 
now  be  unfaithful.  I  cannot  forget  that  if  Gen.  Taylor  be  elected  we  shall  in 
all  probability  have  a  Whig  Congress^  if  Gen.  Cass  is  elected,  a  Loco-Foco 
Congress.  Who  can  isk  me  to  throw  away  all  these  because  of  my  objection! 
to  Gen.  Taylor? 


286  THE   YEAR   OF   HOPE. 

"And  then  the  question  of  Free  Soil,  what  shall  be  the  fate  of  that?  1 
presume  there  are  here  some  Free  Soil  men  ['Yes!  Yes!  all  Free  Soil !']--! 
mean  those  to  whom  the  question  of  extending  or  restricting  Slavery  out 
weighs  all  other  considerations.  I  ask  these  what  hope  they  have  of  keeping 
Slavery  out  of  California  and  New-Mexico  with  Gen.  Cass  President,  and  a 
Loco-Foco  Congress  1  I  have  none.  And  I  appeal  to  every  Free  Soil  Whig 
to  ask  himself  this  question — '  How  would  South  Carolina  and  Texas  wish  you 
to  vote  ?'  Can  you  doubt  that  your  bitter  adversaries  would  rejoice  to  hear 
that  you  had  resolved  to  break  off  from  the  Whig  party  and  permit  Gen  Casa 
to  be  chosen  President,  with  an  obedient  Congress  ?  I  cannot  doubt  it.  And 
I  cannot  believe  that  a  wise  or  worthy  course,  which  my  bitterest  adversaries 
would  gladly  work  out  for  me. 

"  Of  Gen.  Taylor's  soundness  on  this  question,  I  feel  no  assurance,  and  can 
give  none.  But  I  believe  him  clearly  pledged  by  his  letters  to  leave  legisla 
tion  to  Congress,  and  not  attempt  to  control  by  his  veto  the  policy  of  the  coun 
try.  I  believe  a  Whig  Congress  will  not  consent  to  extend  Slavery,  and  that  a 
Whig  President  will  not  go  to  war  with  Congress  and  the  general  spirit  of  his 
party.  So  believing,  I  shall  support  the  Whig  nominations  with  a  view  to  the 
triumph  of  Free  Soil,  trusting  that  the  day  is  not  distant  when  an  amend 
ment  of  the  Federal  Constitution  will  give  the  appointment  of  Postmasters 
and  other  local  officers  to  the  People,  and  strip  the  President  of  the  enormous 
and  anti- republican  patronage  which  now  causes  the  whole  Political  action  of 
the  country  to  hinge  upon  its  Presidential  Elections.  Such  are  my  views ; 
such  will  be  my  course.  I  trust  it  will  no  longer  be  pretended  that  there  ia 
any  mystery  about  them." 

This  speech  was  received  with  particular  demonstrations  of  ap 
proval.  It  was  felt  that  a  serious  obstacle  to  Gen.  Taylor's  success 
was  removed,  and  that  now  the  whig  party  would  march  on  in  an 
unbroken  phalanx  to  certain  victory. 

The  day  which  secured  its  triumph  elected  Horace  Greeley  to  a 
jeat  in  the  House  of  Representatives,  which  the  death  of  a  member 
had  made  vacant.  He  was  elected  for  one  session  only,  and  that, 
the  short  one  of  three  months.  How  he  came  to  be  nominated  has 
been  explained  by  himself  in  a  paragraph  on  the  corruptive  machin 
ery  of  our  primary  elections:  "An  editor  of  the  Tribune  was  once 
nominated  through  that  machinery.  So  he  was — to  serve  ninety 
days  in  Congress — and  he  does. n't  feel  a  bit  proud  of  it.  But  let 
it  be  considered  that  the  Convention  was  not  chosen  to  nominate 
him,  and  did  not  (we  presume)  think  of  doing  any  such  thing, 


HIS   ELECTION   TO    CONGRESS.  287 

until  it  bad  unanimously  nominated  another,  who  unexpectedly  de 
clined,  and  then  one  of  us  was  pitched  upon  to  supply  his  place. 
We  don't  know  whether  the  Primaries  were  as  corrupt  then  as  now 
or  not ;  our  impression  is  that  they  have  been  growing  steadily 
worse  and  worse — but  no  matter — let  us  have  them  reformed." 

His  nomination  introduced  great  spirit  into  the  contest,  and  he 
was  voted  for  with  enthusiasm,  particularly  by  two  classes,  work 
ing-men  and  thinking-men.  His  majority  over  his  opponent  was 
3,177,  the  whole  number  of  votes  being  5,985.  His  majority  con 
siderably  exceeded  that  of  Gen.  Taylor  in  the  same  wards.  At 
the  same  election  Mr.  Brooks,  of  the  Express,  was  elected  to  a  seat 
in  the  House,  and  his  *  Card'  of  thanksgiving  to  those  who  had 
voted  for  him,  elicited  or  suggested  the  following  from  Mr. 
Greeley : 

"  TO   THE   ELECTORS   OF   THE   VITH  CONGRESSIONAL   DISTRICT. 

"  The  undersigned,  late  a  candidate  for  Congress,  respectfully  returns  his 
thanks — first,  to  his  political  opponents  for  the  uniform  kindness  and  considera 
tion  with  which  he  was  treated  by  them  throughout  the  canvass,  and  the  un 
solicited  suffrages  with  which  he  was  honored  by  many  of  them  ;  secondly,  to 
the  great  mass  of  his  political  brethren,  for  the  ardent,  enthusiastic  and  effect 
ive  support  which  they  rendered  him ;  and,  lastly,  to  that  small  portion  of 
the  Whig  electors  who  saw  fit  to  withhold  from  him  their  votes,  thereby 
nearly  or  quite  neutralizing  the  support  he  received  from  the  opposite  party. 
Claiming  for  himself  the  right  to  vote  for  or  against  any  candidate  of  his 
party  as  his  own  sense  of  right  and  duty  shall  dictate,  he  very  freely  accords 
to  all  others  the  same  liberty,  without  offense  or  inquisition. 

"  During  the  late  canvass  I  have  not,  according  to  my  best  recollection, 
spoken  of  myself,  and  have  not  replied  in  any  way  to  any  sort  of  attack  or 
imputation.  I  have  in  no  manner  sought  to  deprecate  the  objections,  nor  to 
soothe  the  terrors  of  that  large  and  most  influential  class  who  deem  my  ad 
vocacy  of  Land  Reform  and  Social  Re-organization  synonymous  with  In 
fidelity  and  systematic  Robbery.  To  have  entered  upon  explanations  or  vin 
dications  of  my  views  on  these  subjects  in  the  crisis  of  a  great  National 
struggle,  which  taxed  every  energy,  and  demanded  every  thought,  comported 
neither  with  my  leisure  nor  my  inclination. 

<;  Neither  have  I  seen  fit  at  any  time  to  justify  nor  allude  to  my  participa 
tion  in  the  efforts  made  here  last  summer  to  aid  the  people  of  Ireland  in  their 
anticipated  struggle  for  Liberty  and  Independence.  I  shall  not  do  so  now. 
What  I  did  then,  in  behalf  of  the  Irish  millions,  I  stand  ready  to  do  again. 


288  THREE  MONTHS  IN  CONGRESS. 

so  far  as  my  means  win  permit,  when  a  similar  opportunity,  with  a  like  pros 
pect  of  success,  is  presented — and  not  for  them  only,  but  for  any  equally  op 
pressed  and  suffering  people  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  If  any  '  extortion  and 
plunder'  were  contrived  and  perpetrated,  in  the  meetings  for  Ireland  at 
Vauxhall  last  season,  I  am  wholly  unconscious  of  it,  though  I  ought  to  bo  as 
well  informed  as  to  the  alleged  '  extortion  and  plunder'  as  most  others,  whether 
my  information  were  obtained  in  the  character  of  conspirator  or  that  of  vic 
tim.  I  feel  impelled,  however,  by  the  expressions  employed  in  Mr.  Brooks's 
card,  to  state  that  I  have  found  nothing  like  an  inclination  to  '  extortion  and 
plunder'  in  the  councils  of  the  leading  friends  of  Ireland  in  this  city,  and  no 
thing  like  a  suspicion  of  such  baseness  among  the  thousands  who  sustained  and 
cheered  them  in  their  efforts.  All  the  suspicions  and  imputations  to  which 
those  have  been  subjected,  who  freely  gave  their  money  and  their  exer 
tions  in  aid  of  the  generous  though  ineffectual  effort  for  Ireland's  liberation, 
have  originated  with  those  who  never  gave  that  cause  a  prayer  or  a  shilling, 
and  have  not  yet  traveled  beyond  them. 

"  Respectfully, 

"  HORACE  GREELEY. 

"New  York,  Nov.  8,  1848." 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 


THREE  MONTHS  IN  CONGRESS. 

his  objects  as  a  Member  of  Congress— His  first  acts— The  Chaplain  hypocrisy— Tin 
Land  Reform  Bill— Distributing  the  Documents— Offers  a  novel  Resolution— The 
Mileage  Expose — Congressional  delays — Explosion  in  the  House — Mr.  Turner's  ora 
tion—Mr.  Greeley  defends  himself— The  Walker  Tariff— Congress  in  a  pet— Speech 
at  the  Printers'  Festival— The  House  in  good  humor— Traveling  dead-head— Per 
sonal  explanations— A  dry  haul— The  amendment  game— Congressional  dignity- 
Battle  of  the  books— The  Recruiting  System— The  last  night  of  the  Session— The 
•  usual  gratuity'— The  Inauguration  Ball— Farewell  to  his  constituents. 

JN  the  composition  of  this  work,  I  have,  as  a  rule,  abstained  from 
the  impertinence  of  panegyric,  and  most  of  the  few  sentences  of 
an  applausive  nature  which  escaped  my  pen  were  promptly  erased 
on  the  first  perusal  of  the  passages  which  they  disfigured.  Of  a 
good  action,  the  simplest  narrative  is  the  best  panegyric ;  of  a  bad 
action,  the  best  justification  is  the  whole  truth  about  it.  Therefore, 


HIS   OBJECTS   AS   A    MEMBER    OF   CONGRESS. 

thougn  Horace  Greeley's  career  in  Congress  is  tliat  part  of  his  II  To 
which  I  regard  with  unmingled  admiration,  and  though  tne  conduct 
of  his  enemies  during  that  period  fills  me  with  inexpressible  disgust, 
I  shall  present  here  little  more  than  a  catalogue  of  his  acts  and  en 
deavors  while  he  held  a  place  in  the  National  bear-garden. 

He  seems  to  have  kept  two  objects  in  view,  during  those  three 
turbulent  and  exciting  months :  1,  to  do  his  duty  as  a  Representative 
of  the  People ;  2,  to  let  the  people  know  exactly  and  fully  what 
manner  of  place  the  House  of  Representatives  is,  by  what  methods 
their  business  is  kept  from  being  done,  and  under  what  pretexts 
their  money  is  plundered.  The  first  of  these  objects  kept  him  con 
stantly  in  his  place  on  the  floor  of  the  House.  The  second  he  ac 
complished  by  daily  letters  to  the  Tribune,  written,  not  at  his  desk 
in  the  House,  but  in  his  room  before  and  after  each  day's  hubbub. 
It  will  be  convenient  to  arrange  this  chapter  in  the  form  of  a  jour 
nal. 

Dec.  4th.  This  was  Monday,  the  first  day  of  the  session.  Horace 
Greeley  *  took  the  oaths  and  his  seat.1 

Dec.  5th.  He  gave  notice  of  his  intention  to  bring  in  a  bill  to 
discourage  speculation  in  the  public  lands,  and  establish  homesteads 
upon  the  same. 

Dec.  6th.  He  wrote  a  letter  to  the  Tribune,  in  which  he  gave 
his  first  impressions  of  the  House,  and  used  some  plain  English. 
He  spoke  strongly  upon  the  dishonesty  of  members'  drawing  pay 
and  yet  not  giving  attendance  at  the  early  sessions,  though  the 
House  had  a  hundred  bills  ready  for  conclusive  action,  and  every 
day  lost  at  the  outset  insures  the  defeat  of  ten  bills  at  the  close. 
As  a  specimen  of  plain  English  take  this : 

"  On  the  third  day,  the  Senate  did  not  even  succeed  in  forming  a  quorum  , 
out  of  fifty-seven  or  eight  members,  who  are  all  sure  to.be  in  for  their  pay 
and  mileage,  only  twenty-nine  appeared  in  their  seats  ;  and  the  annual  hy 
pocrisy  of  electing  a  chaplain  had  to  go  over  and  waste  another  day.  If  either 
House  had  a  chaplain  who  dare  preach  to  its  members  what  they  ought  to  hear 
—of  their  faithlessness,  their  neglect  of  duty,  their  iniquitous  waste  of  time, 
and  robbery  of  the  public  by  taking  from  the  treasury  money  which  they  have 
not  even  attempted  to  earn — then  there  would  be  some  sense  in  the  chaplain 
business  :  b«t  any  ill-bred  Nathan  or  Elijah  who  should  undertake  such  a  job 

13 


THREE  MONTHS  IN  CONGRESS. 

would  be  kicked  -out  in  short  order.     So  the  chaplaincy  remains  a  thing  cf 
grimace  and  mummery,  nicely  calculated  to  help  some  flockless  and  complai 
•jant  shepherd  to  a  few  hundred  dollars,  and  impose  on  devout  simpletons  aa 
exalted  notion  of  the  piety  of  Congress.     Should  not  the  truth  be  spoken  ? 
******** 

"  But  in  truth  the  great  sorrow  is,  that  so  many  of  the  Members  of  Con 
gress,  as  of  men  in  high  station  elsewhere,  are  merely  dexterous  jugglers,  or 
the  tools  of  dexterous  jugglers,  with  the  cup  and  balls  of  politics,  shuffled  into 
responsible  places  as  a  reward  for  past  compliances,  or  in  the  hope  of  being 
there  made  useful  to  the  inventors  and  patentees  of  their  intellectual  and 
moral  greatness.  To  such  men,  the  idea  of  anybody's  coming  to  Congress  for 
anything  else  than  the  distinction  and  the  plunder,  unless  it  be  in  the  hope  of 
intriguing  their  way  up  to  some  still  lazier  and  more  lucrative  post,  is  so  irre- 
eistibly  comic  —  such  an  exhibition  of  jolly  greenness,  that  they  cannot  contem 
plate  it  without  danger  of  explosion." 


Dec.  TiSlTi.  Mr.  Greeley  introduced  the  Land  Reform  bill,  of 
which  he  had  given  notice.  It  provided: 

1.  That  any  citizen,  and  any  alien  who  had  declared  his  intention 
of  becoming  a  citizen,  may  file  a  pre-emption  claim  to  160  acres  of 
Public  Land,  settle  upon  it,  improve  it,  and  have  the  privilege  of 
buying  it  at  any  time  within  seven  years  of  filing  the  claim,  at  the 
Government  price  of  $1  25  per  acre:  provided,  that  he  is  not  the 
owner  or  claimant  of  any  other  real  estate. 

2.  That  the  Land  office  where  a  claim  is  filed,  shall  issue  a  War 
rant  of  Pre-emption,  securing  the  claimant  in  seven  years'  possess 
ion. 

8.  That,  after  five  years'  occupancy,  a  warrant-holder  who  makes 
oath  of  his  intention  to  reside  on  and  cultivate  his  land  for  life  shall 
become  the  owner  of  any  forty  acres  of  his  claim  which  he  may 
select;  the  head  of  a  family  eighty  acres. 

4.  That  the  price  of  public  lands,  when  not  sold  to  actual  settlers, 
shall  be  five  dollars  per  acre. 

5.  That  false  affidavits,  made  to  procure  land  under  the  provisions 
of  this  bill,  shall  be  punished  by  three  years'  hard  labor  in  a  State 
prison,  by  a  fine  not  exceeding  $1.000,  arid  by  the  loss  of  the  land 
fraudulently  obtained. 

Dec.  l&tTi.  The  following  notice  appeared  in  the  Tribune: 

"  Ir  Deference  to  many  requests  for  copies  of  the  President's  Message  and 


OFFERS  A  NOVEL  RESOLUTION.  201 

accompanying  Documents,  I  desire  to  state  that  such  Message  and  Documents 
are  expected  to  cover  twelve  to  fourteen  hundred  printed  octavo  pages,  and 
to  include  three  maps,  the  engraving  of  which  will  probably  delay  the  publi 
cation  for  two  or  three  weeks  yet.  I  shall  distribute  my  share  of  them  as  soon 
as  possible,  and  make  them  go  as  far  as  they  will ;  but  I  cannot  satisfy  half 
the  demands  upon  me.  As  each  Senator  will  have  nearly  two  hundred  copies, 
while  Representatives  have  but  about  sixty  each,  applications  to  Senators, 
especially  from  the  smaller  States,  are  obviously  the  most  promising." 

Dec.  I8tk.  Mr.  Greeley  offered  the  following  resolution  in  the 
House : 

"  Resolved,  That  the  Secretary  of  the  Navy  be  requested  to  inquire  into 
and  report  upon  the  expediency  and  feasibility  of  temporarily  employing  the 
whole  or  a  portion  of  our  national  vessels,  now  on  the  Pacific  station,  in  the 
transportation,  at  moderate  rates,  of  American  citizens  and  their  effects  from 
Panama  and  the  Mexican  ports  on  the  Pacific  to  San  Francisco  in  California." 

This  was  the  year  of  the  gold  fever.  The  fate  of  the  above  reso 
lution  may  be  given  in  its  proposer's  own  words 

"Monday,"  he  wrote,  "was  expressly  a  resolution  day;  and  (the  order 
commencing  at  Ohio)  it  was  about  2  o'clock  before  New  York  was  called,  and 
I  had  a  chance  to  offer  the  foregoing.  It  was  received,  but  could  not  be  acted 
on  except  by  unanimous  consent  (which  was  refused)  until  it  shall  have  laid 
over  one  day — when  of  course  it  will  never  be  reached  again.  When  the 
States  had  been  called  through,  I  rose  and  asked  the  House  to  consider  the 
above  as  modified  so  as  to  have  the  inquiry  made  by  its  own  Naval  Commit 
tee  instead  of  the  Secretary  of  the  Navy — thus  bringing  its  immediate  consid 
eration  within  the  rules.  No  use — two  or  three  on  the  other  side  sang  out 
'  Object,'  *  Object,'  and  the  resolution  went  over — as  all  resolutions  which  any 
member  indicates  a  purpose  to  debate  must  do.  So  the  resolution  cannot  bo 
reached  again  this  Session." 

Dec.  19 th.  Mr.  Greeley  made  what  the  reporters  styled  'a  plain 
and  forcible  speech,1  on  the  tariff,  in  which  he  animadverted  upon 
a  passage  of  the  Message,  wherein  the  President  l*ad  alluded  to 
manufacturers  as  an  '  aristocratic  class,  and  one  that  claimed  exclu 
sive  privileges.'  Mr.  Greeley  walked  into  the  President. 

Dec.  22<Z.  On  this  day  appeared  in  the  Tribune,  the  famous 
Congressional  Mileage  Expose.  The  history  of  this  expose  is 
briefly  related  by  Mr.  Greeley,  in  the  Whig  Almanac  for  1850. 


THREE  MONTHS  IN  CONGRESS. 

"  Early  in  December,  I  called  on  the  Sergeant-at-Arms,  for  some  money  on 
account,  he  being  paymaster  of  the  House.  The  Schedule  used  by  that  officer 
was  placed  before  me,  showing  the  amount  of  mileage  respectively  accorded 
to  every  member  of  the  House.  Many  of  these  amounts  struck  me  as  ex 
cessive,  and  I  tried  to  recollect  if  any  publication  of  all  the  allowances  in  a 
like  case  had  ever  been  made  through  the  journals,  but  could  not  remember 
any  such  publicity.  On  inquiry,  I  was  informed  that  the  amounts  were  regu 
larly  published  in  a  certain  document  entitled  '  The  Public  Accounts,'  of  which 
no  considerable  number  was  printed,  and  which  was  obviously  not  intended 
for  popular  distribution.  [It  is  even  omitted  in  this  document  for  the  year 
1848,  printed  since  I  published  my  expose,  so  that  I  can  now  find  it  in  no  pub 
lic  document  whatever.]  I  could  not  remember  that  I  had  ever  seen  a  copy, 
though  one  had  been  obtained  and  used  by  my  assistant  in  making  up  last 
year's  Almanac.  It  seemed  to  me,  therefore,  desirable  that  the  facts  should 
be  brought  to  the  knowledge  of  the  public,  and  I  resolved  that  it  should  be 
done. 

"  But  how  ?  To  have  picked  out  a  few  of  what  seemed  to  me  the  most  fla 
grant  cases  of  overcharge,  and  print  these  alone,  would  be  to  invite  and  secure 
the  reputation  of  partiality,  partisanship,  and  personal  animosity.  No  other 
course  seemed  so  fair  as  to  print  the  mileage  of  each  member,  with  necessary 
elucidations.  I  accordingly  employed  an  ex-clerk  in  one  of  the  departments, 
and  instructed  him  to  make  out  a  tabular  expose  as  follows  : 

"  1.  Name  of  each  member  of  the  House  ; 

"  2.  Actual  distance  from  his  residence  to  Washington  by  the  shortest  post- 
route  ; 

11  3.  Distance  for  which  he  is  allowed  and  paid  mileage ; 

"  4.  Amount  of  mileage  received  by  him  ; 

"  5.  Excess  of  mileage  so  received  over  what  would  have  been  if  the  dis 
tance  had  been  computed  by  the  shortest  or  most  direct  mail-route. 

"  The  expose  was  made-out  accordingly,  and  promptly  forwarded  to  the  Tri 
bune,  in  which  it  appeared  " 

In  the  remarks  which  introduced  the  tahular  statement,  Mr. 
Greeley  expressly  and  pointedly  laid  the  blame  of  the  enormous  ex 
cess  to  the  law.  "Let  no  man,"  he  said  "jump  at  the  conclusion 
that  this  excess  has  been  charged  and  received  contrary  to  law. 
The  fact  is  otherwise.  The  members  are  all  honorable  men—if  any 
irreverent  infidel  should  doubt  it,  we  can  silence  him  by  referring 
to  the  prefix  to  their  names  in  the  newspapers,  and  we  presume 
each  has  charged  just  what  the  law  allows  him.  That  law  ex 
pressly  says  that  each  shall  receive  eight  dollars  for  every  twenty 
miles  traveled  in  coining  to  and  returning  from  Congress,  lby  the 


THE    MILEAGE    EXPOSE.  $T,3 

usually  traveled  route ;'  and  of  course  if  the  route  usually  traveled 
from  California  to  Washington  is  around  Cape  Horn,  or  the  mem 
bers  from  that  embryo  State  shall  choose  to  think  it  is — they  will 
each  be  entitled  to  charge  some  $12,000  mileage  per  session,  accord- 
ly.  We  assume  that  each  has  charged  precisely  what  the  law  al 
lows  him,  and  thereupon  we  press  home  the  question —  Ought  not 
THAT  LAW  to  be  amended ,?" 

It  appeared  from  the  statement,  that  the  whole  number  of  "  cir 
cuitous  miles"  charged  was  183031,  which,  at  forty  cents  a  mile, 
amounted  to  $73,492  60.  With  about  twelve  exceptions,  it  showed 
that  every  member  of  the  Senate  and  House  had  drawn  more  mile 
age  than  he  ought  to  have  been  legally  entitled  to,  the  excess  vary 
ing  in  amount  from  less  than  two  dollars  to  more  than  a  thousand 
dollars.  Viewed  merely  as  a  piece  of  editorship,  this  mileage  ex 
pose  was  the  best  hit  ever  made  by  a  New  York  paper.  The  effect 
of  it  upon  the  town  was  immediate  and  immense.  It  flew  upon 
the  wings  of  the  country  press,  and  became,  in  a  few  days,  the 
talk  of  the  nation.  Its  effect  upon  Congress,  and  upon  the  subse 
quent  congressional  career  of  its  author,  we  shall  see  in  a  moment. 

Dec.  23d.  Mr.  Greeley  wrote  a  letter  to  the  Tribune,  in  which 
he  explained  the  maneuvering  by  which  Congress,  though  it  can 
not  legally  adjourn  over  for  more  than  three  consecutive  days, 
generally  contrives  to  be  idle  during  the  whole  of  the  Christmas 
holidays ;  i.  e.  from  a  day  or  two  before  Christinas,  to  a  day  or  two 
after  New  Year's.  "  I  was  warned,"  he  wrote,  "  when  going  to 
Baltimore  last  evening,  that  I  might  as  well  keep  on  to  New  York, 
as  nothing  would  be  done  till  some  time  in  January.  But  I' came 
back,  determined  to  see  at  least  how  it  was  done."  It  was  '  done' 
by  making  two  bites  at  the  cherry,  adjourning  first  from  Saturday 
to  Wednesday ;  and,  after  a  little  show  of  work  on  Wednesday, 
Thursday  and  Friday,  adjourning  again  till  after  New  Year's  day. 
Mr.  Greeley  spoke  in  opposition  to  the  adjournment,  and  demanded 
the  yeas  and  nays ;  but  they  were  refused,  and  the  *irst  bite  was 
consummated.  "  The  old  soldiers"  of  the  House  were  too  much  for 
him,  he  said ;  but  he  took  care  to  print  the  names  of  those  who 
voted  for  the  adjournment. 

Dec.  27th.    T>day  the  pent  up  rage  of  Congress  at  the  Mileage 


THREE  MONTHS  IN  CONGRESS. 

Expose,  which  had  been  fermenting  for  three  days,  burst  forth ;  and 
the  gentleman  who  knocked  out  the  bung,  so  to  speak,  was  no  other 
than  Mr.  Sawyer,  of  Ohio,  Mr.  Sausage  Sawyer  of  the  Tribune. 
Mr.  Sawyer  was  l  down'  in  the  Expose  for  an  excess  of  $281  60, 
and  he  rose  to  a  '  question  of  privilege.'  A  long  and  angry  de 
bate  ensued,  first  upon  the  question  whether  the  Expose  could  bo 
debated  at  all ;  and  secondly,  if  it  could,  what  should  be  done  about 
it.  It  was  decided,  after  much  struggle  and  turmoil,  that  it  was  a 
proper  subject  of  discussion,  and  Mr.  Turner,  of  Illinois,  whose  excess 
amounted  to  the  interesting  sum  of  $998  40,  moved  a  series  of 
resolutions,  of  which  the  following  was  the  most  important : 

"  Resolved,  That  a  publication  made  in  the  New  York  Tribune  on  the 
day  of  December,  1848,  in  which  the  mileage  of  members  is  set  forth  and 
commented  on,  be  referred  to  a  Committee,  with  instructions  to  inquire 
into  and  report  whether  said  publication  does  not  amount,  in  substance,  to  an 
allegation  of  fraud  against  most  of  the  members  of  this  House  in  this  matter 
of  their  mileage ;  and  if,  in  the  judgment  of  the  Committee,  it  does  amount  to 
an  allegation  of  fraud,  then  to  inquire  into  it,  and  report  whether  that  allega 
tion  is  true  or  false." 

The  speech  by  which  Mr.  Turner  introduced  his  resolutions  was 
not  conceived  in  the  most  amiable  spirit,  nor  delivered  with  that 
'ofty  composure  which,  it  is  supposed,  should  characterize  the  elo 
cution  of  a  legislator.  These  sentences  from  it  will  suffice  for  a 
specimen : 

"  He  now  wished  to  call  the  attention  of  the  House  particularly  to  these 
charges  made  by  the  editor  of  the  New  York  Tribune,  most,  if  not  all,  of  which 
charges  he  intended  to  show  were  absolutely  false ;  and  that  the  individual 
who  made  them  had  either  been  actuated  by  the  low,  groveling,  base,  and 
malignant  desire  to  represent  the  Congress  of  the  nation  in  a  false  and  un 
enviable  light  before  the  country  and  the  world,  or  that  he  had  been  actuated 
by  motives  still  more  base — by  the  desire  of  acquiring  an  ephemeral  notoriety, 
by  blazoning  forth  to  the  world  what  the  writer  attempted  to  show  was  fraud. 
The  whole  article  abounded  in  gross  errors  and  willfully  false  statements,  and 
was  evidently  prompted  by  motives  as  base,  unprincipled  and  corrupt  as  ever 
actuated  an  individual  in  wielding  his  pen  for  the  public  press. 

******** 

"  Perhaps  the  gentleman  (he  begged  pardon),  or  rather  the  individual,  per 
haps  the  thing,  that  penned  that  article  was  not  aware  that  his  (Mr.  T.'s)  por 
tion  of  the  country  was  not  cut  up  by  railroads  and  traveled  by  stage-coaches 


EXPLOSION   IN   THE   HOUSE.  205 

tend  other  direct  means  of  public  conveyance,  like  the  omnibuses  in  the  City  ot 
New  York,  between  all  points  ;  they  had  no  other  channel  of  communication 
except  the  mighty  lakes  or  the  rivers  of  the  West ;  he  could  not  get  here  in 
any  other  way.  The  law  on  the  subject  of  Mileage  authorized  the  members 
to  charge  upon  the  most  direct  usually-traveled  route.  Now,  he  ventured  the 
assertion  that  there  was  not  an  individual  in  his  District  who  ever  camo  to 
this  city,  or  to  any  of  the  North -eastern  cities,  who  did  not  come  by  the  way 

of  the  lakes  or  the  rivers. 

********* 
"  He  did  not  know  but  he  was  engaged  in  a  very  small  business.  A  gentle 
man  near  him  suggested  that  the  writer  of  this  article  would  not  be  believed 
anyhow  ;  that,  therefore,  it  was  no  slander.  But  his  constituents,  living  two 
or  three  thousand  miles  distant,  might  not  be  aware  of  the  facts,  and  therefore 
it  was  that  he  had  deemed  it  necessary  to  repel  the  slanderous  charges  and 
imputations  of  fraud,  so  far  as  they  concerned  him." 

Other  honorable  gentlemen  followed,  and  discoursed  eloquent  dis 
cord  in  a  similar  strain.  Mr.  Greeley  sat  with  unruffled  composure 
and  heard  himself  vilified  for  some  hours  without  attempting  to 
reply.  At  length,  in  a  pause  of  the  storm,  he  arose  and  gave  no 
tice,  that  when  the  resolutions  were  disposed  of  he  should  rise  to  a 
privileged  question.  The  following  sprightly  conversation  ensued: 

"  Mr.  Thompson,  of  Indiana,  moved  that  the  resolutions  be  laid  on  the  table. 

"  The  Yeas  and  Nays  were  asked  and  ordered  ;  and,  being  taken,  were — 
Yeas  28,  Nays  128. 

"  And  the  question  recurring  on  the  demand  for  the  previous  question  : 

"  Mr.  Fries  inquired  of  the  Speaker  whether  the  question  was  susceptible 
of  division. 

"The  Speaker  said  that  the  question  could  be  taken  separately  on  each  res 
olution. 

"A  number  of  members  here  requested  Mr.  Evans  to  withdraw  the  demand 
for  the  previous  question  (£.  t.  permit  Mr.  Greeley  to  speak). 

"  Mr.  Evans  declined  to  withdraw  the  motion,  and  desired  to  state  the  rea 
son  why  he  did  so.  The  reason  was,  that  the  gentleman  from  New  York  [Mr. 
Greeley  1  had  spoken  to  an  audience  to  which  the  members  of  this  House  could 
not  speak.  If  the  gentleman  wished  to  assail  any  member  of  this  House,  lefc 
him  do  so  here. 

"  The  Speaker  interposed,  and  was  imperfectly  heard,  but  was  understood 
to  say  that  it  was  out  of  order  to  refer  personally  to  gentlemen  on  this  floor. 

"  Mr.  Evans  said  he  would  refer  to  the  editor  of  the  Tribune,  and  he  insist 
ed  that  the  gentleman  was  not  entitled  to  reply. 

["  Loud  cries  from  all  parts  of  the  House,  '  Let  him  speak,'  with  mingling 
dissent.] 


296  TETREE    MONTHS    IN    CONGRESS. 

"  The  question  was  then  taken  on  the  demand  for  the  previous  question. 

"  But  the  House  refused  to  second  it. 

"  Mr.  Greeley,  after  alluding  to  the  comments  that  had  been  made  upon  the 
article  in  the  Tribune  relative  to  the  subject  of  Mileage,  and  the  abuse  which 
had  notoriously  been  practiced  relating  to  it,  said  he  had  heard  no  gentleman 
quote  one  word  in  that  article  imputing  an  illegal  charge  to  any  member  of 
this  House,  imputing  anything  but  a  legal,  proper  charge.  The  whole  ground 
of  the  argument  was  this  :  Ought  not  the  law  to  be  changed?  Ought  not  the 
mileage  to  be  settled  by  the  nearest  route,  instead  of  what  was  called  the 
usually-traveled  route,  which  authorized  a  gentleman  coming  from  the  center 
of  Ohio  to  go  around  by  Sandusky,  Albany,  New  York,  Philadelphia,  and 
Baltimore,  and  to  charge  mileage  upon  that  route.  He  did  not  object  to  any 
gontleman's  taking  that  course  if  he  saw  fit;  but  was  that  the  route  upon 
which  the  mileage  ought  to  be  computed  1 

"  Mr.  Turner  interposed,  and  inquired  if  the  gentleman  wrote  that  article! 

"  Mr.  Greeley  replied  that  the  introduction  to  the  article  on  mileage  was  writ 
ten  oy  himself ;  the  transcript  from  the  books  of  this  House  and  from  the  ac 
counts  of  the  Senate  was  made  by  a  reporter,  at  his  direction.  That  reporter, 
who  was  formerly  a  clerk  in  the  Post-Office  Department,  [Mr.  Douglass  How 
ard,]  had  taken  the  latest  book  in  the  Department,  which  contained  the  dis 
tances  of  the  several  post-offices  in  the  country  from  Washington;  and  from 
that  book  he  had  got — honestly,  he  knew,  though  it  might  not  have  been  en- 
t'rely  accurate  in  an  instance  or  two — the  official  list  of  the  distances  of  the 
several  post-offices  from  this  city.  In  every  case,  the  post-office  of  the  inem- 
bor,  whether  of  the  Senate  or  the  House,  had  been  looked  out,  his  distance  as 
charged  set  down,  then  the  post-office  book  referred  to,  and  the  actual,  honest 
distance  by  the  shortest  route  set  down  opposite,  and  then  the  computation 
made  how  much  the  charge  was  an  excess,  not  of  legal  mileage,  but  of  what 
would  be  legal,  if  the  mileage  was  computed  by  the  nearest  mail  route. 

"  Mr.  King,  of  Georgia,  desired,  at  this  point  of  the  gentleman's  remarks, 
to  say  a  word;  the  gentleman  said  that  the  members  charged;  now,  he  (Mr. 
K.)  desired  to  say,  with  reference  to  himself,  that  from  the  first,  he  had  always 
lefused  to  give  any  information  to  the  Committee  on  Mileage  with  respect  tc 
the  mileage  to  which  he  would  be  entitled.  He  had  told  them  it  was  theii 
special  duty  to  settle  the  matter ;  that  he  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  it. 
lie,  therefore,  had  charged  nothing. 

"  Mr.  Greeley  (continuing)  said  he  thought  all  this  showed  the  necessity  of 
a  new  rule  on  the  subject,  for  here  they  saw  members  shirking  off,  shrinking 
from  the  responsibility,  and  throwing  it  from  one  place  to  another.  Nobody 
made  up  the  account,  but  somehow  an  excess  of  $60,000  or  $70.000  was 
charged  in  the  accounts  for  mileage,  and  was  paid  from  the  Treasury. 

"Mr.  King  interrupted,  and  asked  if  he  meant  to  charge  him  (Mr.  K  )  with 
shirking  1  Was  that  the  gentleman's  remark  1 


MR.  GREELEY   DEFENDS    HIMSELF.  297 

'  Mr.  Greeley  replied,  that  he  only  said  that  by  some  means  or  other,  this 
excess  of  mileage  was  charged,  and  was  paid  by  the  Treasury.  This  money 
ought  to  be  saved.  The  same  rule  ought  to  be  applied  to  members  of  Con 
gress  that  was  applied  to  other  persons. 

"  Mr.  King  desired  to  ask  the  gentleman  from  New  York  if  he  had  correctly 
understood  his  language,  for  he  had  heard  him  indistinctly  7  He  (Mr.  K.) 
had  made  the  positive  statement  that  he  had  never  had  anything  to  do  with 
reference  to  the  charge  of  his  mileage,  and  he  had  understood  the  gentleman 
from  New  York  to  speak  of  shirking  from  responsibility.  He  desired  to  know 
if  the  gentleman  applied  that  term  to  him  1 

"  Mr.  Greeley  said  he  had  applied  it  to  no  member. 

"  Mr.  King  asked,  why  make  use  of  this  term,  then  ? 

"  Mr.  Greeley's  reply  to  this  interrogatory  was  lost  in  lie  confusion  which 
prevailed  in  consequence  of  members  leaving  their  seats  and  coming  forward 
to  the  area  in  the  center. 

"  The  Speaker  called  the  House  to  order,  and  requested  gentlemen  to  take 
their  seats. 

"  Mr.  Greeley  proceeded.  There  was  no  intimation  in  the  article  that  any 
member  had  made  out  his  own  account,  but  somehow  or  other  the  accounts  had 
been  so  made  up  as  to  make  a  total  excess  of  some  $60,000  or  $70,000,  charge 
able  upon  the  Treasury.  The  general  facts  had  been  stated,  to  show  that  the 
law  ought  to  be  different,  and  there  were  several  cases  cited  to  show  how  the 
law  worked  badly ;  for  instance,  from  one  district  in  Ohio,  the  member  for 
merly  charged  for  four  hundred  miles,  when  he  came  on  his  own  horse  all  the 
way ;  but  now  the  member  from  the  same  district  received  mileage  for  some 
eight  or  nine  hundred  miles.  Now,  ought  that  to  be  so?  The  whole  argu 
ment  turned  on  this  ;  now,  the  distances  were  traveled  much  easier  than  for 
merly,  and  yet  more,  in  many  cases  much  more,  mileage  was  charged.  The 
gentleman  from  Ohio  who  commenced  this  discussion,  had  made  the  point  that 
there  was  some  defect,  some  miscalculation  in  the  estimate  of  distances.  He 
could  not  help  it ;  they  had  taken  the  post-office  books,  and  relied  on  them, 
and  if  any  member  of  the  press  had  picked  out  a  few  members  of  this  House, 
and  held  up  their  charges  for  mileage,  it  would  have  been  considered  invidious. 

"  Mr.  Turner  called  the  attention  of  the  member  from  New  York  to  the  fact 
that  the  Postmaster  General  himself  had  thrown  aside  that  Post  Office  book, 
in  consequence  of  its  incorrectness.  He  asked  the  gentleman  if  he  did  not 
know  that  fact  7 

"  Mr.  Greeley  replied  that  the  article  itself  stated  that  the  Department  did 
not  charge  mileage  upon  that  book.  Every  possible  excuse  and  mitigation 
had  been  given  in  the  article  ;  but  he  appealed  to  the  House — they  were  the 
masters  of  the  law — why  would  they  not  change  it,  and  make  it  more  just  and 
equal  1 

"  Mr.  Sawyer  wished  to  be  allowed  to  ask  the  gentleman  from  New  York  a 

13* 


298  THREE  MONTHS  IN  CONGRESS. 

question.  His  complaint  was  that  the  article  had  done  him  injustice,  by  set 
ting  him  down  as  some  300  miles  nearer  the  seat  of  Government  than  his  col 
league  [Mr.  Schenck],  although  his  colleague  had  stated  before  the  House  that 
he  [Mr.  Sawyer]  resided  some  60  or  70  miles  further. 

"  Now,  he  wanted  to  know  why  the  gentleman  had  made  this  calculation 
against  him,  and  in  favor  of  his  colleague  ? 

"  Mr.  Greeley  replied  that  he  begged  to  assure  the  gentleman  from  Ohio 
that  he  did  not  think  he  had  ever  been  in  his  thoughts  from  the  day  he 
had  come  here  until  the  present  day  ;  but  he  had  taken  the  figures  from  the 
Post  Office  book,  as  transcribed  by  a  former  Clerk  in  the  Post  Office  Depart 
ment." 

After  much  more  sparring  of  the  same  description,  the  resolu 
tions  were  adopted,  the  Committee  -was  appointed,  the  House  ad 
journed,  and  Mr.  Greeley  went  home  and  wrote  a  somewhat  face 
tious  account  of  the  day's  proceedings.  The  most  remarkable  sen 
tence  in  that  letter  was  this : 

"  It  was  but  yesterday  tJiat  a  Senator  said  to  me  that  though  he  was  utterly 
opposed  to  any  reduction  of  Mileage,  yet  if  the  House  did  not  stop  passing 
Retrenchment  bills  for  Buncombe,  and  then  running  to  the  Senate  and  beg 
ging  Senators  to  stop  them  there,  he,  for  one,  would  vote  to  put  through  the 
next  Mileage  Reduction  bill  that  came  to  the  Senate,  just  to  punish  Members 
for  their  hypocrisy." 

Jan.  2nd.  Mr.  Greeley  offered  a  resolution  calling  on  the  Secre 
tary  of  the  Treasury  to  communicate  to  the  House  the  advantages 
resulting  from  the  imposition  by  the  Tariff  of  1846  of  duties  of  5 
and  10  per  cent,  on  certain  manufactures  of  wool  and  hemp,  more 
than  was  imposed  on  the  raw  material,  and  if  they  were  not  advan 
tageous,  then  to  state  what  action  was  required. 

Jan.  r6i<L.    The  resolution  came  up. 

"  Mr.  Wentworth  objected  to  the  Secretary  of  the  Treasury  being  called 
opon  for  such  information.  If  the  gentleman  from  New  York  would  apply  to 
aim  [Mr.  W.],  he  would  give  him  his  reasons,  but  he  objected  to  this  reference 
»  the  Secretary  of  the  Treasury.  He  moved  to  lay  it  on  the  table,  but  with- 
Irew  it  at  the  request  of — 

"  Mr.  Greeley,  who  said  it  was  well  known  that  the  Tariff  of  1846  was 
i  repared  by  the  Secretary ;  he  had  been  its  eulogist  and  defender,  and  ho 
how  wished  for  his  views  on  the  particular  points  specified.  He  had  un- 
•>lficially  more  than  thirty  times  called  on  the  defenders  of  the  Tariff  of  1846 


CONGRESS    IN   A   PET.  299 

to  explain  these  things,  but  had  never  been  able  to  get  one,  and  now  he  wanted 
fco  go  to  headquarters. 

"  Mr.  Wentworth  was  not  satified  with  this  at  all,  and  asked  why  the  gentle 
man  from  New  York  did  not  call  on  him.  He  was  ready  to  give  him  any  in 
formation  he  had. 

"  Mr.  Grceley— That  call  ig  not  in  order.    [A  laugh.] 

"  Mr.  W. — But  he  objected  to  the  passage  of  a  resolution  imputing  that  the 
Secretary  of  the  Treasury  bad  dictated  a  Tariff  bill  to  Uie  House. 

"Mr.  Washington  Hunt — Does  not  the  gentleman  from  Illinois  know  that 
the  Committee  of  Ways  and  Means  called  upon  the  Secretary  for  a  Tariff,  and 
that  he  prepared  and  transmitted  this  Tariff  to  them  1 

"  Mr.  Wentworth — I  do  not  know  anything  about  it. 

"  Mr.  Hunt — Well,  the  gentleman's  ignorance  is  remarkable,  for  it  was  very 
generally  known. 

"  Mr.  Wentworth  renewed  his  motion  to  lay  the  resolution  on  the  table, 
on  which  the  Ayes  and  Noes  were  demanded,  and  resulted  Ayes  86,  Noes  87." 

Jan.  4:th.  Congress,  to-day,  showed  its  spite  at  the  mileage  ex 
pose  in  a  truly  extraordinary  manner.  At  the  last  session  of  this 
very  Congress  the  mileage  of  the  Messengers  appointed  by  the  Elec 
toral  Colleges  to  bear  their  respective  votes  for  President  and  Vice 
President  to  Washington,  had  been  reduced  to  twelve  and  a  half 
cents  per  mile  each  way.  But  now  it  was  perceived  by  members 
that  either  the  mileage  of  the  Messengers  must  be  restored  or  their 
own  reduced.  "  Accordingly,"  wrote  Mr.  Greeley  in  one  of  his  let 
ters,  "  a  joint  resolution  was  promptly  submitted  to  the  Senate, 
doubling  the  mileage  of  Messengers,  and  it  went  through  that  ex 
alted  body  very  quickly  and  easily.  I  had  not  noticed  that  it  had 
been  definitively  acted  on  at  all  until  it  made  its  appearance  in  the 
House  to-day,  and  was  driven  through  with  indecent  rapidity  well 
befitting  its  character.  No  Committee  was  allowed  to  examine  it, 
no  opportunity  was  afforded  to  discuss  it,  but  by  whip  and  spur, 
Previous  Question  and  brute  force  of  numbers,  it  was  rushed  through 
the  necessary  stages,  and  sent  to  the  President  for  his  sanction." 

The  injustice  of  this  impudent  measure  is  apparent  from  the  fact, 
that  on  the  reduced  scale  of  compensation,  messengers  received  from 
ten  to  twenty  dollars  a  day  during  the  period  of  their  necessary  ab 
sence  from  home.  "The  messenger  from  Maine,  for  instance,  brings 
the  vote  of  his  State  five  hundred  and  ninety -five  miles,  and  need 
not  be  more  than  eight  days  absent  from  his  business,  at  an  expense 


300  THREE  MONTHS  IN  CONGRESS. 

certainly  not  exceeding  $60  in  all.     The  reduced  compensation  was 
$148  75,  paying  his  expenses  and  giving  him  $11  per  day  over." 

Jan.  7th.  The  Printers'  Festival  was  held  this  evening  at  Wash 
ington,  and  Mr.  Greeley  attended  it,  and  made  a  speech.  His  re 
marks  were  designed  to  show,  that  "  the  interests  of  tradesmen 
generally,  but  especially  of  the  printing  and  publishing  trade,  includ 
ing  authors  and  editors,  were  intimately  involved  in  the  establish 
ment  and  maintenance  of  high  rates  of  compensation  for  labor  in 
all  departments  of  industry.  It  is  of  vital  interest  to  us  all  that  the 
entire  community  shall  be  buyers  of  books  and  subscribers  to  jour 
nals,  which  they  cannot  be  unless  their  earnings  are  sufficient  to 
supply  generously  their  physical  wants  and  leave  some  surplus  for 
intellectual  aliment.  We  ought,  therefore,  as  a  class,  from  regard 
to  our  own  interests,  if  from  no  higher  motive,  to  combine  to  keep 
up  higher  rates  of  compensation  in  our  own  business,  and  to  favor 
every  movement  in  behalf  of  such  rates  in  other  callings."' 

He  concluded  by  offering  a  sentiment : 

"  The  Lightning  of  Intelligence — Now  crashing  ancient  tyrannies  and  top 
pling  down  thrones — May  it  swiftly  irradiate  the  world." 

Jan.  9th.  The  second  debate  on  the  subject  of  Mileage  occurred 
to-day.  It  arose  thus  : 

The  following  item  being  under  consideration,  viz. :  "  For  Com 
pensation  and  Mileage  of  Senators,  Members  of  the  House  of  Rep 
resentatives,  and  Delegates,  $768,200,"  Mr.  Embree  moved  to  amend 
it  by  adding  thereto  the  following :  "  Provided,  That  the  Mileage 
of  Members  of  both  Houses  of  Congress  shall  hereafter  be  estimated 
and  charged  upon  the  shortest  mail-route  from  their  places  of  resi 
dence,  respectively,  to  the  city  of  Washington." 

The  debate  which  ensued  was  long  and  animated,  but  wholly 
different  in  tone  and  manner  from  that  of  the  previous  week. 
Strange  to  relate,  the  Expose  found,  on  this  occasion,  stanch  de 
fenders,  and  the  House  was  in  excellent  humor.  The  reader,  it1  he 
feels  curious  to  know  the  secret  of  this  happy  change,  may  find  it, 
I  think,  in  that  part  of  a  speech  delivered  in  the  course  of  the  de 
bate,  where  the  orator  said,  that  "  he  had  not  seen  a  single  news 
paper  of  the  country  which  did  not  approve  of  the  course  which 


TRAVELLING   DEAD-HEAD  301 

the  gentleman  from  New  York  had  taken  ;  and  he  believed  there 
was  no  instance  where  the  Editor  of  a  paper  had  spoken  out  the 
genuine  sentiments  of  the  people,  and  made  any  expression  of  dis 
approbation  in  regard  to  the  effort  of  the  gentleman  from  New  York 
to  limit  this  unjustifiable  taxation  of  Milage." 

The  debate  relapsed,  at  length,  into  a  merry  conversation  on  the 
subject  of  traveling  '  dead-heads.'' 

"  Mr.  Murphy  said,  when  he  came  on,  he  left  New  York  at  5  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon,  and  arrived  at  Philadelphia  to  supper  ;  and  then  entering  the  cat 
again,  he  slept  very  comfortably,  and  was  here  in  the  morning  at  8  o'clock. 
He  lost  no  time.  The  mileage  was  ninety  dollars. 

"  Mr.  Root  would  inquire  of  the  gentleman  from  New  York,  whether  he 
took  his  passage  and  came  on  as  what  the  agents  sometimes  call  a  '  dead 
head  ?'  [Laughter.] 

"  Mr.  Murphy  replied  (amid  considerable  merriment  and  laughter)  that  h« 
did  not  know  of  more  than  one  member  belonging  to  the  New  York  delegation 
to  whom  that  application  could  properly  attach. 

"  Mr.  Root  said,  although  his  friend  from  New  York  was  tolerably  expert 
in  everything  he  treated  of,  yet  he  might  not  understand  the  meaning  of  the 
term  he  had  used.  He  would  inform  him  that  tha  term  '  dead-head,'  was  ap 
plied  by  the  steamboat  gentlemen  to  passengers  who  were  allowed  to  travel 
without  paying  their  fare.  [A  great  deal  of  merriment  prevailed  throughout 
the  hall,  upon  this  allusion,  as  it  manifestly  referred  to  the  two  editors,  the 
gentleman  from  Pennsylvania,  Mr.  Levin,  and  the  gentleman  from  New  York, 
Mr.  Greeley.]  But  Mr.  R.  (continuing  to  speak)  said  he  was  opposed  to  all 
personalities.  He  never  indulged  in  any  such  thing  himself,  and  he  never 
would  favor  such  indulgence  on  the  part  of  other  gentlemen. 

"  Mr.  Levin.     I  want  merely  to  say — 

"  Mr.  Root.    I  am  afraid— 

["  The  confusion  of  voices  and  merriment  which  followed,  completely 
drowned  the  few  words  of  pleasant  explanation  delivered  here  by  JVIr.  Levin.] 

"  Mr.  Greeley  addressed  the  cfcair. 

"  The  Chairman.  The  gentleman  from  New  York  will  suspend  his  remarks 
till  the  Committee  shall  come  to  order. 

"  Order  being  restored — 

"  Mr.  Greeley  said  he  did  not  pretend  to  know  what  the  editor  of  the  Phil 
adelphia  Sun,  the  gentleman  from  Pennsylvania  [Mr.  Levin],  had  done.  But 
if  any  gentleman,  anxious  about  the  matter,  would  inquire  at  the  railroad 
offices  in  Philadelphia  and  Baltimore,  he  would  there  be  informed  that  he  (Mr. 
G.)  never  had  passed  over  any  portion  of  either  of  those  roads  free  of  charge 
— never  in  the  world.  One  of  the  gentlemen  interested  had  once  told  him  h» 
might,  but  he  never  had. 


302  THREE  MONTHS  IN  CONGRESS. 

"  Mr.  Embree  next  obtained  the  floor,  but  gave  way  for 

"  Mr.  Haralson,  who  moved  that  the  Committee  rise. 

"Mr.  Greeley  appealed  to  the  gentleman  from  Georgia  [Mr.  Haralson j  to 
withhold  his  motion,  while  he  might,  by  the  courtesy  of  the  gentleman  from 
Indiana  [Mr.  EmbreeJ,  make  a  brief  reply  to  the  allusions*  which  had  been 
made  to  him  and  his  course  upon  this  subject.  He  asked  only  for  five  minutes 
But 

"  Mr.  Haralson  adhered  to  his  motion,  which  was  agreed  to. 

"  So  the  Committee  rose  and  reported,  '  No  conclusion.'  " 

Jan.  IQth.  The  slave-trade  in  the  District  of  Columbia  was  the 
subject  of  discussion,  and  the  part  which  Mr.  Greeley  took  in  it,  he 
thus  described : 

"  SLAVE-TRADE  IN  THE  DISTRICT. 

ME.  GBEELEY'S  REMARKS 
In  Defense  of  Mr,  Gotfs  Resolution,  (suppressed.} 

["  Throughout  the  whole  discussion  of  Wednesday,  Mr.  Greeley  struggled 
at  every  opportunity  for  the  floor,  and  at  first  was  awarded  it,  but  the  speaker, 
on  reflection,  decided  that  it  belonged  to  Mr.  Wentworth  of  111.,  who  had  made 
a  previous  motion.  Had  Mr.  G.  obtained  the  floor  at  any  time,  it  was  his  in 
tention  to  have  spoken  substantially  as  follows — the  first  paragraph  being  sug 
gested  by  Mr.  Sawyer's  speech,  and  of  course  only  meditated  after  that  speech 
was  delivered."] 

Then  follows  the  speech,  which  was  short,  eloquent,  and  con 
vincing. 

Jan.  llth.  The  third  debate  on  the  mileage  question.  Mr.  Gree 
ley,  who  ^  hud  been  for  three  days  struggling  for  the  floor,"  ob 
tained  it,  and  spoke  in  defense  of  his  course.  For  two  highly  auto 
biographical  paragraphs  of  his  speech,  room  must  be  found  in  these 
pages : 

"  The  gentleman  saw  fit  to  speak  of  my  vocation  as  an  editor,  and  to  charge 
me  with  editing  my  paper  from  my  seat  on  this  floor.  Mr.  Chairman,  I  do 
not  believe  there  is  one  member  in  this  Hall  who  has  written  less  in  his  seat 
this  session  than  I  have  done.  I  have  oeon  too  much  absorbed  in  the  (to  mo) 
novel  and  exciting  scenes  around  me  to  write,  and  have  written  no  editorial 
hero.  Time  enough  for  that,  Sir,  before  and  after  your  daily  sessions.  But 
die  gentleman  either  directly  charged  or  plainly  insinuated  that  I  have  neg- 


PERSONAL    EXPLANATIONS.  303 

lected  my  dunes  as  a  member  of  this  House  to  attend  to  my  own  private  bus 
iness.  I  meet  this  charge  with  a  positive  and  circumstantial  denial.  Except 
a  brief  sitting  one  Private  Bill  day,  I  have  not  been  absent  one  hour  in  all, 
nor  the  half  of  it,  from  the  deliberations  of  this  House.  I  have  never  voted 
for  an  early  adjournment,  nor  to  adjourn  over.  My  name  will  be  found  re 
corded  on  every  call  of  the  yeas  and  nays.  And,  as  the  gentleman  insinuated 
a  neglect  of  my  duties  as  a  member  of  a  Committee  (Public  Lands,)  I  ap 
peal  to  its  Chairman  for  proof  to  any  that  need  it,  that  I  have  never  been  ab 
sent  from  a  meeting  of  that  Committee,  nor  any  part  of  one  ;  and  that  I  have 
rather  sought  than  shunned  labor  upon  it.  And  I  am  confident  that,  alike  in 
my  seat,  and  out  of  it,  I  shall  do  as  large  a  share  of  the  work  devolving  upon 
this  House  as  the  gentleman  from  Mississippi  will  deem  desirable. 

"And  now,  Mr.  Chairman,  a  word  on  the  main  question  before  us.  I  know 
very  well — I  knew  from  the  first — what  a  low,  contemptible,  demagoguing 
business  this  of  attempting  to  save  public  money  always  is.  It  is  not  a  task 
for  gentlemen — it  is  esteemed  rather  disreputable  even  for  editors.  Your 
gentlemenly  work  is  spending — lavishing — distributing — taking.  Savings  are 
always  such  vulgar,  beggarly,  two-penny  affairs — there  is  a  sorry  and  stingy 
look  about  them  most  repugnant  to  all  gentlemanly  instincts.  And  beside, 
they  never  happer.  to  hit  the  right  place — it  is  always  '  Strike  higher  !'  '  Strike 
lower  !'  To  be  generous  with  other  people's  money — generous  to  self  and 
friends  especially,  that  is  the  way  to  bo  popular  and  commended.  Go  ahead, 
and  never  care  for  expense  ! — if  your  debts  become  inconvenient,  you  can  re 
pudiate,  and  blackguard  your  creditors  as  descended  from  Judas  Iscariot ! — 
Ah  !  Mr.  Chairman,  /  was  not  rocked  in  the  cradle  of  gentility  !" 

Jan.  14th.  He  wrote  out  another  speech  on  a  noted  slave  case, 
which  at  that  time  was  attracting  much  attention.  This  effort  was 
entitled,  "  My  Speech  on  Pacheco  and  his  Negro."  It  was  humor 
ous,  but  it  was  a  '  settler' ;  and  it  is  a  pity  there  is  not  room  for  it 
here. 

Jan.  16th.  The  Mileage  Committee  made  their  report,  exonerat 
ing  memhers,  condemning  the  Expose,  and  asking  to  be  excused 
from  further  consideration  of  the  subject. 

Jan.  17th.  A  running  debate  on  Mileage — many  suggestions 
made  for  the  alteration  of  the  law — nothing  done — the  proposed 
reform  substantially  defeated.  The  following  conversation  occurred 
upon  the  subject  of  Mr.  Greeley's  own  mileage.  Mr.  Greeley  tells 
the  story  himself,  heading  his  letter  '  A  Dry  Haul. 

"  The  House  having  resolved  itself  again  into  a  Committtee  of  the  Whole, 


304  THREE  MONTHS  IN  CONGRESS. 

and  taken  up  the  Civil  and  Diplomatic  Appropriation  Bill,  on  which  Mr.  Murphj 
of  New  York  had  the  floor,  I  stepped  out  to  attend  to  some  business,  and  was 
rather  surprised  to  learn,  on  my  way  back  to  the  Hall,  that  Mr.  M.  was  mak 
ing  me  the  subject  of  his  remarks.  As  I  went  in,  Mr.  M.  continued — 

"  MURPHY. — As  the  gentleman  is  now  in  his  seat,  I  will  repeat  what  I  have 
stated.  I  said  that  the  gentleman  who  started  this  breeze  about  Mileage,  by 
his  publication  in  the  Tribune,  has  himself  charged  and  received  Mileage  by 
the  usual  instead  of  the  shortest  Mail  Route.  He  charges  me  with  taking 
$3  20  too  much,  yet  I  live  a  mile  further  than  he,  and  charge  but  the  same. 

"  GHEELEV. — The  gentleman  is  entirely  mistaken.  Finding  my  Mileage  was 
computed  at  8184  for  two  hundred  and  thirty  miles,  and  seeing  that  the  short 
est  Mail  Route,  by  the  Post-Office  Book  of  1842,  made  the  distance  but  two 
hundred  and  twenty-five  miles,  I,  about  three  weeks  ago,  directed  the  Ser- 
geant-at-Arms  to  correct  his  schedule  and  make  my  Mileage  $180  for  two 
hundred  and  twenty- five  miles.  I  have  not  inquired  since,  but  presume  he  has 
done  so.  So  that  I  do  not  charge  so  much  as  the  gentleman  from  Brooklyn, 
though,  instead  of  living  nearer,  I  live  some  two  or  three  miles  further  from 
this  city  than  he  does,  or  fully  two  hundred  and  twenty-nine  miles  by  the 
shortest  Post  Route. 

"  RICHARDSON  of  Illinois. — Did  not  the  gentleman  make  out  his  own  ao  • 
count  at  two  hundred  and  thirty  miles  1 

'•  GREELEY. — Yes,  sir,  I  did  at  first ;  but,  on  learning  that  there  was  a 
shorter  Post  Route  than  that  by  which  the  Mileage  from  our  city  had  been 
charged,  I  stepped  at  once  to  the  Sergeant's  room,  informed  him  of  the  fact, 
and  desired  the  proper  correction.  Living  four  miles  beyond  the  New  York 
Post  Office,  I  might  fairly  have  let  the  account  stand  as  it  was,  but  I  did 
not.' 

Jan.  18th.  Mr.  Greeley's  own  suggestion  with  regard  to  Mile 
age  appears  in  the  Tribune  : 

"  1.  Reduce  the  Mileage  to  a  generous  but  not  extravagant  allowance  for 
the  time  and  expense  of  traveling ; 

"  2.  Reduce  the  ordinary  or  minimum  pay  to  $5  per  day,  or  (we  prefer)  $8 
for  each  day  of  actual  service,  deducting  Sundays,  days  of  adjournment 
within  two  hours  from  the  time  of  assembling,  and  all  absences  not  caused  by 
sickness  ; 

"  3.  Whenever  a  Member  shall  have  served  six  sessions  in  either  House,  01 
both  together,  let  his  pay  thenceforward  be  increased  fifty  per  cent.,  and  aftei 
he  shall  have  served  twelve  years  as  aforesaid,  let  it  be  double  that  of  an  or 
dinary  or  new  Member; 

"  4.  Pay  the  Chairman  of  each  Committee,  and  all  the  Members  of  the 
three  most  important  and  laborious  Committees  of  each  House,  fifty  per  cent 


THE   AMENDMENT    GAME.  30' 

above  the  ordinary  rates,  and  the  Chairmen  of  the  three  (or  more)  most,  re 
sponsible  and  laborious  Committees  of  eaeh  House  (say  Ways  and  Means,  Ju 
diciary  and  Claims)  double  the  ordinary  rates  ;  the  Speaker  double  or  treble, 
as  should  be  deemed  just ; 

"  5.  Limit  the  Long  Sessions  to  four  months,  or  half-pay  thereafter." 

Jan.  %Qth.  Another  letter  appears  to-day,  exposing  some  of  the 
expedients  by  which  the  time  of  Congress  is  wasted,  and  the  pub 
lic  business  delayed.  The  bill  for  the  appointment  of  Private 
Claims'  Commissioners  was  before  the  House.  If  it  had  passed, 
Congress  would  have  been  relieved  of  one-third  of  its  business,  and 
the  claims  of  individuals  against  the  government  would  have  had 
a  chance  of  fair  adjustment.  But  no.  "  Amendment  was  piled  on 
amendment,  half  of  them  merely  as  excuses  for  speaking,  and  so 
were  withdrawn  as  soon  as  the  Chairman's  hammer  fell  to  cut  off  the 
five-minute  speech  in  full  flow.  The  first  section  was  finally  worried 
through,  and  the  second  (there  are  sixteen)  was  mouthed  over  for 
half  an  hour  or  so.  At  two  o'clock  an  amendment  was  ready  to 
be  voted  on,  tellers  were  ordered,  and  behold!  no  quorum.  The 
roll  was  called  over ;  members  came  running  in  from  the  lobbies 
and  lounging-places  ;  a  large  quorum  was  found  present ;  the  Chair 
man  reported  the  fact  to  the  Speaker,  and  the  House  relapsed  into 
Committee  again.  The  dull,  droning  business  of  proposing  amend 
ments  which  were  scarcely  heeded,  making  five-minute  speeches 
that  were  not  listened  to,  and  taking  votes  where  not  half  voted, 
and  half  of  those  who  did  were  ignorant  of  what  they  were  voting 
upon,  proceeded  some  fifteen  minutes  longer,  when  the  patriotic  for 
titude  of  the  House  gave  way,  and  a  motion  that  the  Committee 
rise  prevailed."  The  bill  has  not  yet  been  passed.  Just  claima 
clamor  in  vain  for  liquidation,  and  doubtful  ones  are  bullied  or 
maneuvered  through. 

Jan.  22d.  To-day  the  House  of  ^Representatives  covered  itself 
with  glory.  Mr.  Greeley  proposed  an  additional  section  to  the 
General  Appropriation  Bill,  to  the  effect,  that  members  should  not 
be  paid  for  attendance  when  they  did  not  attend,  unless  their  ab 
sence  was  caused  by  sickness  or  public  business.  u  At  this  very 
session,"  said  Mr.  Greeley  in  his  speech  on  this  occasion,  "members 
have  been  absent  for  weeks  together,  attending  to  their  private 


306  THREE  MONTHS  IN  CONGRESS. 

business,  while  this  Committee  is  almost  daily  broken  up  for  want 
of  a  quorum  in  attendance.  This  is  a  gross  wrong  to  their  con 
stituents,  to  the  country,  and  to  those  members  who  remain  in  their 
seats,  and  endeavor  to  urge  forward  the  public  business." 

"What  followed  is  thus  related  by  Mr.  Greeley  in  his  letter  to  the 
Tribune : 

"  Whereupon,  Hon.  Henry  C.  Murphy,  of  Brooklyn,  (it  takes  him  !)  rose  and 
moved  the  following  addition  to  the  proposed  new  section  : 

"  '  And  there  shall  also  be  deducted  for  such  time  from  the  compensation  of 
members,  who  shall  attend  the  sittings  of  the  House,  as  they  shall  be  employ 
ed  in  writing  for  newspapers.'  "  .  . 

"  No  objection  being  made,  the  House,  with  that  exquisite  sense  of  dignity 
and  propriety  which  has  characterized  its  conduct  throughout,  adopted  this 
amendment. 

"  And  then  the  whole  section  was  voted  down. 

"  Mr.  Greeley  next,  with  a  view  of  arresting  the  prodigal  habit  which  has 
grown  up  here  of  voting  a  bonus  of  $250  to  each  of  the  sub-clerks,  messen 
gers,  pages,  &c.,  <fcc.,  (their  name  is  Legion)  of  both  Houses,  moved  the  fol 
lowing  new  section  : 

"  '  Sec.  5.  And  be  it  further  enacted,  That  it  shall  not  henceforth  be  lawful 
for  either  Houses  of  Congress  to  appropriate  and  pay  from  its  Contingent 
Fund  any  gratuity  or  extra  compensation  to  any  person  whatever;  but  every 
appropriation  of  public  money  for  gratuities  shall  be  lawful  only  when  ex 
pressly  approved  and  passed  by  both  Houses  of  Congress.' 

"  This  was  voted  down  of  course  ;  and  on  the  last  night  or  last  but  one  of 
the  session,  a  motion  will  doubtless  be  sprung  in  each  house  for  the  c  usual ' 
gratuity  to  these  already  enormously  overpaid  attendants,  and  it  will  probably 
pass,  though  I  am  informed  that  it  is  already  contrary  to  law.  But  what  of 
that?" 

Jan.  23<?.  An  HONEST  MAN  in  the  House  of  Representatives  of  the 
United  States  seemed  to  be  a  foreign  element,  a  fly  in  its  cup,  an 
ingredient  that  would  not  mix,  a  novelty  that  disturbed  its  peace.  It 
struggled  hard  to  find  a  pretext  for  the  expulsion  of  the  offensive 
person ;  but  not  finding  one,  the  next  best  thing  was  to  endeavoi 
to  show  the  country  that  Horace  Greeley  was,  after  all,  no  better 
than  members  of  Congress  generally.  To-day  occurred  the  cele 
brated,  yet  pitiful,  Battle  of  the  Books.  Congress,  as  every  one 
knows,  is  accustomed  annually  to  vote  each  member  a  small  library 
of  books,  consisting  of  public  documents,  reports,  statistics.  Mr. 


BATTLE  OF  THE  BOOKS.  307 

Greeley  appro  red  the  appropriation  for  reasons  which  will  appear 
in  a  moment,  and  he  knew  the  measure  was  sure  to  pass  ;  yet,  un 
willing  to  give  certain  blackguards  of  the  House  a  handle  against 
him  and  against  the  reforms  with  which  he  was  identified,  he  voted 
formally  against  the  appropriation.  It  is  but  fair  to  all  concerned  in 
the  Battle,  that  an  account  of  it,  published  in  the  Congressional 
Globe,  should  be  given  here  entire,  or  nearly  so.  Accordingly, 
here  it  is : 

"In  the  House  of  Representatives  on  Tuesday,  while  the  General  Appro 
priation  Bill  was  up,  Mr.  Edwards,  of  Ohio,  offered  the  following  amendment : 

"  Be  it  further  enacted^  That  the  sums  of  money  appropriated  in  this  bill 
for  books  be  deducted  from  the  pay  of  those  members  who  voted  for  the  appro 
priation. 

"  Mr.  Edwards,  in  explanation,  said  that  he  had  voted  in  favor  of  the  appro 
priation,  and  was  of  course  willing  that  the  amendment  should  operate  upon 
himself  precisely  as  it  would  upon  any  other  member.  He  had  no  apology  to 
make  for  the  vote  he  had  given.  He  would  send  to  the  Clerk's  table  the  New 
York  'Tribune'  of  January  18th,  and  would  request  the  Clerk  to  read  the 
paragraph  which  he  (Mr.  E.)  had  marked. 

"  The  clerk  read  the  following : 

"  '  And  yet,  Mr.  Speaker,  it  has  been  hinted  if  not  asserted  on  this  floor  that 
I  voted  for  these  Congressional  books !  I  certainly  voted  against  them  at 
every  opportunity,  when  I  understood  the  question.  I  voted  against  agreeing 
to  that  item  of  the  report  of  the  Committee  of  the  Whole  in  favor  of  the  De 
ficiency  bill,  and,  the  item  prevailing,  I  voted  against  the  whole  bill.  I  tried 
to  be  against  them  at  every  opportunity.  But  it  seems  that  on  some  stand-up 
vote  in  Committee  of  the  Whole,  when  I  utterly  misunderstood  what  was  the 
question  before  the  Committee,  I  voted  for  this  item.  Gentlemen  say  I  did, 
and  I  must  presume  they  are  right.  I  certainly  never  meant  to  do  so.  and  I 
did  all  in  my  power  in  the  House  to  defeat  this  appropriation.  But  it  is  com 
mon  with  me  in  incidental  and  hasty  divisions,  when  I  do  not  clearly  under 
stand  the  point  to  be  decided,  to  vote  with  the  Chairman  of  the  Committee  of 
Ways  and  Means,  [Mr.  Vinton,]  who  is  so  generally  right  and  who  has  spec 
ial  charge  of  appropriation  bills,  and  of  expediting  business  generally.  Thus 
only  can  I  have  voted  for  these  books,  as  on  all  other  occasions  I  certainly 
voted  against  them.' 

"  The  paragraph  having  been  read  : 

"  Mr.  Edwards  (addressing  Mr.  Greeley)  said,  I  wish  to  inquire  of  the  gen 
tleman  from  New  York,  if  I  an?  in  order,  whether  that  is  his  editorial  ? 

"  Mr.  Greeley  rose. 

[Hubbu^  for  some  minutes,    sifter  which ] 


308  THREE  MONTHS  IN  CONGRESS. 

"  Mr.  Greeley  said,  every  gentleman  here  must  remember  that  that  was 
but  the  substance  of  what  he  had  spoken  on  this  floor.  His  colleague  next 
him  [Mr.  Rumsey]  had  told  him,  that  upon  one  occasion  he  (Mr.  G.)  had  voted 
for  the  appropriation  for  books  when  he  did  not  understand  the  vote.  He  (Mr. 
G.)  had  voted  for  tellers  when  a  motion  was  made  to  pass  the  item  ;  but  by 
mistake  the  Chairman  passed  over  the  motion  for  tellers,  and  counted  him  in 
favor  of  the  item. 

"  Mr.  Edwards.  I  understand,  then,  that  the  gentleman  voted  without  un 
derstanding  what  he  was  voting  upon,  and  that  he  would  have  voted  against 
taking  the  books  had  he  not  been  mistaken. 

"  Mr.  Greeley  assented. 

"  Mr.  Edwards.  I  assert  that  that  declaration  is  unfounded  in  fact.  I  have 
the  proof  that  the  gentleman  justified  his  vote  both  before  and  after  the  voting. 

"  Mr.  Greeley  called  for  the  proof. 

"  Mr.  Edwards  said  he  held  himself  responsible,  not  elsewhere,  but  here,  to 
prove  that  the  gentleman  from  New  York  [Mr.  Greeley]  had  justified  his  vote 
in  favor  of  the  books  both  before  and  after  he  gave  that  vote,  upon  the  ground 
on  which  they  all  justified  it,  and  that  this  editorial  was  an  afterthought,  writ 
ten  because  he  [Mr.  G.]  had  been  twitted  by  certain  newspapers  with  having 
voted  for  the  books.  He  held  himself  ready  to  name  the  persons  by  whom  he 
could  prove  it. 

"  [Loud  cries  of  f  Name  them ;  name  them.' J 

"  Mr.  Edwards  (responding  to  the  repeated  invitations  which  were  addressed 
to  him)  said,  Charles  Hudson,  Dr.  Darling,  and  Mr.  Putnam. 

"[The  excitement  was  very  great,  and  there  was  much  confusion  in  all 
parts  of  the  Hall — many  members  standing  in  the  aisles,  or  crowding  forward 
to  the  area  and  the  vicinity  of  Mr.  Greeley.] 

"  Mr.  Greeley  (addressing  Mr.  Edwards).  I  say,  neither  of  these  gentlemen 
will  say  so. 

"  Mr.  Edwards.    I  hold  myself  responsible  for  the  proof.    (Addressing  Mr. 
Hudson).    Mr.  Hudson  will  come  to  the  stand.    [General  laughter.] 
******** 

"  Mr.  Greeley.  Now,  if  there  is  any  gentleman  who  will  say  that  he  has  un 
derstood  me  to  say  that  I  voted  for  it  understandingly,  I  call  upon  him  to  come 
forward. 

"  Mr.  Edwards.  The  gentleman  calls  for  the  testimony.  Mr.  Hudson  is 
the  man — Dr.  Darling  is  the  man. 

"[Members  had  again  flocked  into  the  area.  There  were  cries  of  'Hudson, 
Hudson,'  c  down  in  front,'  and  great  disorder  throughout  the  House.] 

"  The  Chairman  again  earnestly  called  to  order  ;  and  all  proceedings  were 
arrested  for  the  moment,  in  order  to  obtain  order. 

"  The  House  having  become  partially  stilled — 

"  Air.  Hudson  rose  and  said  :  I  suppose  it  is  not  in  order  for  me  to  address 


BATTLE  OF  THE  BOOK8.  309 

the  Committee;  but,  as  I  have  been  called  upon,  if  there  is  no  objectisn,  I 
have  no  objection  on  my  part,  to  state  what  I  have  heard  the  gentleman  from 
New  York  [Mr.  Greeley  J  say. 

"  [Cries  from  all  quarters,  'Hear  him,  hear  him.'] 

"The  Chairman.     If  there  is  no  objection  the  gentleman  can  proceed. 

"  No  objection  being  made — 

"  Mr.  Hudson  said,  I  can  say,  then,  that  on  a  particular  day,  when  this 
book  resolution  had  been  before  the  House — as  it  was  before  the  House  several 
times,  I  cannot  designate  the  day — but  one  day,  when  we  had  been  passing 
upon  the  question  of  books,  in  walking  from  the  Capitol,  I  fell  in  with  my 
friend  from  New  York,  [Mr.  Greeley ;]  that  we  conversed  from  the  Capitol 
down  on  to  the  avenue  in  relation  to  these  books ;  that  he  stated — as  I  under 
stood  him  (and  I  think  I  could  not  have  been  mistaken) — that  he  was  in  favor 
of  the  purchase  of  the  books  ;  that  he  either  had  or  should  vote  for  the  books, 
and  he  stated  two  reasons :  the  one  was,  that  some  of  these  publications  were 
of  such  a  character  that  they  would  never  be  published  unless  there  was  some 
public  patronage  held  out  to  the  publishers ;  and  the  other  reason  was.  tha\ 
the  other  class  of  these  books  at  least  contained  important  elements  of  his 
tory,  which  would  be  lost  unless  gathered  up  and  published  soon,  and  as  th* 
distribution  of  these  books  was  to  diffuse  the  information  over  the  community, 
he  was  in  favor  of  the  purchase  of  these  books ;  and  that  he  himself  had  suf 
fered  from  not  having  access  to  works  of  this  character.  That  was  the  sub 
stance  of  the  conversation. 

"  Mr.  Hudson  having  concluded — 

"  [There  were  cries  of  '  Darling,  Darling.'] 

"  Mr.  Darling  rose  and  (no  objection  being  made)  proceeded  to  say :  On  one 
of  the  days  on  which  we  voted  for  the  books  now  in  question — the  day  that 
the  appropriation  passed  the  House — I  was  on  my  way  from  the  Capitol,  and, 
passing  down  the  steps,  I  accidentally  came  alongside  the  gentleman  from 
New  York,  [Mr.  Greeley,]  who  was  in  conversation  with  another  gentleman — 
a  member  of  the  House — whose  name  I  do  not  recollect.  I  heard  him  (Mr 
G.)  say  he  justified  the  appropriation  for  the  books  to  the  members,  on  the 
ground  of  their  diffusing  general  information.  He  said  that  in  the  City  of 
New  York  he  knew  of  no  place  where  he  could  go  to  obtain  the  information 
contained  in  these  books ;  that  although  it  was  supposed  that  in  that  place  the 
sources  of  information  were  much  greater  than  in  almost  any  other  portion  of 
the  country,  he  would  hardly  know  where  to  go  in  that  City  to  find  this  infor 
mation  ;  and  upon  this  ground  that  he  would  support  the  resolution  in  favor 
of  the  books  This  conversation,  the  gentleman  will  recollect,  took  place  going 
down  from  the  west  door  of  the  Capitol  and  before  we  got  to  the  avenue.  1 
do  not  now  recollect  the  gentleman  who  was  with  the  gentleman  from  New 
York. 

"  Mr.  Putnam  rose  amid  loud  cries  of  invitation,  and  (no  objection  being 


310  THREE  MONTHS  IN  CONGRESS. 

made,)  said  :  As  Jay  name  has  been  referred  to  in  relation  to  thir  question, 
it  is  due  perhaps  to  the  gentleman  from  New  York  [Mr.  Greeley]  tha%  I  should 
state  this :  That  some  few  days  since  the  gentleman  from  Ohio  [Mr.  Edwards] 
called  upon  me  here,  and  inquired  of  me  whether  I  had  beard  my  colleague 
[Mr.  Greeley]  say  anything  in  relation  to  his  vote  as  to  the  books.  I  that 
morning  had  received  the  paper,  and  I  referred  him  to  the  editorial  contained 
therein  which  has  been  read  by  the  Clerk  ;  but  I  have  no  recollection  of  stat 
ing  to  the  gentleman  from  Ohio  that  I  heard  my  colleague  say  he  justified  the 
vote  which  he  gave  ;  nor  have  I  any  recollection  whatever  that  I  ever  heard 
my  colleague  say  anything  upon  the  subject  after  the  vote  given  by  him. 

"  The  gentleman  from  Ohio  must  have  misunderstood  me,  and  it  is  due  to 
my  colleague  that  this  explanation  should  be  made. 

"  [Several  voices :  '  What  did  he  say  before  the  vote  ?'] 

"I  have  no  recollection  [said  Mr.  P.]  that  I  ever  heard  him  say  anything. 

"  Mr.  Edwards  rose,  and  wished  to  know  if  any  of  his  five  minutes  was 
left? 

"  No  reply  was  heard  ;  but,  after  some  conversation,  (being  allowed  to  pro 
ceed,)  he  said,  I  have  stated  that  I  have  no  apologies  to  make  for  giving  this 
vote.  I  voted  for  these  books  for  the  very  reasons  which  the  gentleman  from 
New  York  [Mr.  Greeley]  gave  to  these  witnesses.  I  stated  that  I  could  prove 
by  witnesses  that  the  gentleman  has  given  reasons  of  this  kind,  and  that  that 
editorial  was  an  afterthought.  If  the  House  requires  any  more  testimony, 
it  can  be  had  ;  but  out  of  the  mouths  of  two  witnesses  he  is  condemned.  That 
is  scriptural  as  well  as  legal. 

"  I  have  not  risen  to  retaliate  for  anything  this  editor  has  said  in  reference 
to  the  subject  of  mileage.  I  have  been  classed  among  those  who  have  re 
ceived  excessive  mileage.  I  traveled  in  coming  to  Washington  forty-three 
miles  further  than  the  Committee  paid  me;  but  I  stated  before  the  Committee 
the  reasons  why  I  made  the  change  of  route.  I  had  been  capsized  once 

"  The  Chairman  interposed,  and  said  he  felt  bound  to  arrest  this  debate. 

"  [Cries  of  '  Greeley  !  Greeley  !'] 

"Mr.  Greeley  rose 

"  The  Chairman  stated  that  it  would  not  be  in  order  for  the  gentleman  to 
address  the  House  while  there  was  no  question  pending. 

"  [Cries  of  *  Suspend  the  rules  ;  hear  him.'! 

11  Mr.  Tallmadge  rose  and  inquired  if  his  colleague  could  not  proceed  by  gen 
eral  consent  ? 

"The  Chairman  replied  in  the  affirmative 

"  No  objection  was  made,  and 

K  Mr.  Greeley  proceeded.  The  gentleman  from  Massachusetts  [Mr.  Hud 
son]  simply  misunderstood  only  one  thing.  He  states  me  to  have  urged  the 
considerations  which  he  urged  to  me.  He  urged  these  considerations — and  I 
think  forcibly.  I  say  now,  ns  I  did  the  other  day  on  the  floor  of  this  House, 


MR.  GREELEY   EXPLAINS.  311 

I  approve  of  the  appropriation  for  the  books,  provided  they  are  honestly  di» 
posed  of  according  to  the  intent  of  the  appropriation. 

"  Mr.  Edwards.  Why,  then,  did  you  make  the  denial  in  the  Tribune,  and 
say  that  you  voted  against  it? 

"  Mr.  Greeley.  I  did  vote  against  it.  I  did  not  vote  for  it,  because  I  did 
not  choose  to  have  some  sort  of  gentlemen  on  this  floor  hawk  at  me.  Tho 
gentleman  from  Massachusetts  [Mr.  Hudson]  submitted  considerations  to  me 
of  which  I  admitted  the  force.  I  admit  them  now;  I  admit  that  the  House 
was  justifiable  in  voting  for  this  appropriation,  for  the  reason  ably  stated  by 
the  Chairman  of  the  Committee  of  Ways  and  Means ;  and  I  think  I  was 
justifiable,  as  this  Hall  will  show,  in  not  voting  for  it.  In  no  particular  was 
there  collision  between  what  I  said  on  this  floor,  the  editorial,  and  what  I  said 
in  conversation.  The  conversation  to  which  the  gentleman  from  Wisconsin 
[Mr.  Darling]  refers  is  doubtless  the  same  of  which  the  gentleman  from  Mas 
sachusetts  [Mr.  Hudson]  has  spoken. 

"  Mr.  G.  having  concluded— 

"  On  motion  of  Mr.  Vinton,  the  Committee  rose  and  rejported  the  bill  to  the 
House,  with  sundry  amendments." 

After  the  flurry  was  over,  Mr.  Greeley  went  home  and  wrote  an 
explanation  which  appeared  a  day  or  two  after  in  the  Tribune.  It 
began  thus : 

"The  attack  upon  me  by  Dr.  Edwards  of  Ohio  to-day,  was  entire 
ly  unexpected.  I  had  never  heard  nor  suspected  that  he  cherished 
ill-will  toward  me,  or  took  exception  to  anything  I  had  said  or  done. 
I  have  spoken  with  him  almost  daily  as  a  friendly  acquaintance, 
and  only  this  morning  had  a  familiar  conference  with  him  respect 
ing  his  report  on  the  importation  of  adulterated  drugs,  which  has 
jnst  been  presented.  I  have  endeavored  through  the  Tribune  to 
do  justice  to  his  spirited  and  most  useful  labors  on  that  subject. 
Neither  in  word  nor  look  did  he  ever  intimate  that  he  was  offended 
with  me — not  even  this  morning.  Conceive,  then,  my  astonish 
ment,  when,  in  Committee  of  the  Whole,  after  the  general  appro 
priation  bill  had  been  gone  through  by  items  and  sections,  he  rose, 
and  moving  a  sham  amendment  in  order  to  obtain  the  floor,  sent 
to  the  clerk's  desk  to  be  read,  a  Tribune  containing  the  substance  of 
my  remarks  on  a  recent  occasion,  repelling  the  charge  that  I  had 
voted  for  the  Congressional  books,  and  that  having  been  read,  he 
proceeded  to  pronounce  it  false,  and  declare  that  he  had  three  wit 


312  THREE  MONTHS  IN  CONGRESS. 

nesses  in  the  House  to  prove  it.    I  certainly  could  not  have  been 
more  surprised  had  he  drawn  a  pistol  and  taken  aim  at  me." 
******* 

Jan.  25th.  Mr.  Greeley  (as  a  member  of  the  Committee  on  pub 
lic  lands,)  reported  a  bill  providing  for  the  reduction  of  the  price 
of  lands  bordering  on  Lake  Superior.  In  Committee  of  the  Whole, 
he  moved  to  strike  from  the  army  appropriation  bill  the  item  of 
$38,000  for  the  recruiting  service,  sustaining  his  amendment  by 
an  elaborate  speech  on  the  recruiting  system.  Eejected.  Mr.  Gree 
ley  moved,  later  in  the  day,  that  the  mileage  of  officers  be  calcu 
lated  by  the  shortest  route.  Rejected.  The  most  striking  pass 
age  of  the  speech  on  the  recruiting  system  was  this : 

"  Mr.  Chairman,  of  all  the  iniquities  and  rascalities  committed  in  our  coun 
try,  I  think  those  perpetrated  in  this  business  of  recruiting  are  among  the 
most  flagrant.  I  doubt  whether  this  government  punishes  as  many  frauds  in 
all  as  it  incites  by  maintaining  this  system  of  recruiting.  I  have  seen  some 
thing  of  it,  and  been  by  hearsay  made  acquainted  with  much  more.  A  sim 
ple,  poor  man,  somewhat  addicted  to  drinking,  awakes  from  a  drunken  revel 
in  which  he  has  disgraced  himself  by  some  outrage,  or  inflicted  some  injury,  or 
has  squandered  means  essential  to  the  support  of  his  family.  He  is  ashamed 
to  enter  his  home — ashamed  to  meet  the  friends  who  have  known  him  a  re 
spectable  and  sober  man.  At  this  moment  of  half  insanity  and  utter  horror, 
the  tempter  besets  him,  portrays  the  joys  of  a  soldier's  life  in  the  most  glow- 
fng  and  seductive  colors,  and  persuades  him  to  enlist.  Doubtless  men  hare 
often  been  made  drunk  on  purpose  to  delude  them  into  an  enlistment ;  for  there 
is  (or  lately  was)  a  bounty  paid  to  whoever  will  bring  in  an  acceptable  re 
cruit  to  the  station.  All  manner  of  false  inducements  are  constantly  held  out 
— absurd  hopes  of  promotion  and  glory  are  incited,  and,  when  not  in  his  right 
mind,  the  dupe  is  fastened  for  a  term  which  will  probably  outlast  his  life. 
Very  soon  he  repents  and  begs  to  be  released — his  distracted  wife  pleads — his 
famishing  children  implore — but  all  in  vain.  Shylock  must  have  his  bond, 
and  the  husband  and  father  is  torn  away  from  them  for  years — probably  for 
ever.  This  whole  business  of  recruiting  is  a  systematic  robbery  of  husbands 
from  their  wives,  fathers  from  their  children,  and  sons  from  their  widowed  and 
dependent  mothers.  It  is  not  possible  that  a  Christian  people  have  any  need 
of  such  a  fabric  of  iniquity,  and  I  call  upon  this  House  to  unite  in  decreeing 
its  abolition." 

Jan.  3lst.  In  Committee  of  the  Whole,  the  naval  appropriation 
bill  being  under  consideration,  Mr.  Greeley  offered  an  amendment 


THE    LAST    NIGHT    OF    THE    eESSION.  313 

Deducing  the  list  of  warrant  officers.     Rejected.     He  also  spoke  for 
abolishing  the  grog  system. 

Feb.  1st.  Mr.  Greeley  made  a  motion  to  the  effect,  that  no  offi 
cer  of  the  navy  should  be  promoted,  as  long  as  there  were  otners 
of  the  higher  rank  unemployed.  Rejected. 

Feb  lUh.    Mr.  Greeley  submitted  the  following  resolution  . 

"  Resolted>  That  the  Committee  on  the  Judiciary  be  instructed  to  inquire 
•whether  there  be  anything  in  our  laws  or  authoritative  Judicial  decisions 
which  countenances  the  British  doctrine  of  '  Once  a  subject  always  a  subject,' 
and  to  report  what  action  of  Congress,  if  any,  be  necessary  to  conform  the 
laws  and  decisions  aforesaid,  consistently  and  thoroughly  to  the  American  doc 
trine,  affirming  the  right  of  every  man  to  migrate  from  his  native  land  to 
some  other,  and,  in  becoming  a  citizen  of  the  latter,  to  renounce  all  allegi 
ance  and  responsibility  to  the  former." 

Objected  to.  The  resolution,  was  therefore,  according  to  the 
rule,  withdrawn. 

Feb.  26th.  A  proposal  having  been  made  that  the  New  Mexico 
and  Texas  Boundary  Question  be  referred  to  the  Supreme  Court, 
Mr.  Greeley  objected,  oo  the  ground  that  the  majority  of  the  mem 
bers  of  that  Court  were  slaveholders, 

Fdb.  27th.  The  Committee  to  whom  had  been  referred  Mr.  Gree- 
ley's  Land  Reform  Bill,  asked  leave  to  be  relieved  from  the  further 
consideration  of  the  subject.  Mr.  Greeley  demanded  the  yeas  and 
nays.  Refused.  A  motion  was  made  to  lay  the  bill  on  the  table, 
which  was  carried,  the  yeas  and  nays  being  again  refused.  In  the 
debates  on  the  organization  of  the  new  territories,  California,  etc., 
Mr.  Greeley  took  a  spirited  part. 

March  4th.  The  last  night  of  the  session  had  arrived.  It  was 
Saturday.  The  appropriation  bills  were  not  yet  passed.  The  bill 
for  the  organization  of  the  new  territories,  acquired  by  the  Mexican 
war,  had  still  to  be  acted  upon.  It  was  a  night  of  struggle,  tur 
moil,  and  violence,  though  the  interests  of  future  empires  were  con 
cerned  in  its  deliberations.  A  few  sentences  from  Mr.  Greeley 's  own 
ianutive  will  .give  an  idea  of  the  scene: 

14 


314  THREE   MONTHS   IN    CONGRESS. 

"The  House  met  after  recess  at  six — the  seats  soon  filled,'the  lobbite  and 
galleries  densely  crowded. 

***** 

"  Members  struggled  in  wild  tumult  for  the  floor. 
***** 

"  A  vehement  yell  of  'Mr.  Speaker  !'  rose  from  the  scores  who  jumped  *>n 
the  instant  for  the  floor. 

******** 

"•Here  the  effect  of  the  Previous  Question  was  exhausted,  and  the  wild  rush 
of  half  the  House  for  the  floor — the  universal  yell  of  '  Mr.  Speaker !'  was  re 
newed. 

******** 

"  The  House,  still  intensely  excited,  proceeded  very  irregularly  to  other 
business — mainly  because  they  must  await  the  Senate's  action  on  the  Thom 
son  substitute. 

******** 

"  At  length — after  weary  watching  till  five  o'clock  in  the  morning,  when 
even  garrulity  had  exhausted  itself  with  talking  on  all  manner  of  frivolous 
pretexts,  and  relapsed  into  grateful  silence — when  profligacy  had  been  satiated 
with  rascally  votes  of  the  public  money  in  gratuities  to  almost  everybody  con 
nected  with  Congress,  Ac.,  Ac., — word  came  that  the  Senate  had  receded  alto 
gether  from  its  Walker  amendment  and  everything  of  the  sort,  agreeing  to  the 
bill  as  an  Appropriation  Bill  simply,  and  killing  the  House  amendment  by 
surrendering  its  own.  Close  on  its  heels  came  the  Senate's  concurrence  in  the 
Mouse  bill  extending  the  Revenue  Laws  to  California ;  and  a  message  >*»s  sent 
with  both  bills  to  rouse  Mr.  Polk  (still  President  by  sufferance)  from  his  first 
slumbers  at  the  Irving  House  (whither  he  had  retired  from  the  Capitol  some 
hours  before),  and  procure  his  signature  to  the  two  bills.  In  due  time — though 
it  seemed  very  long  now  that  it  was  broad  daylight  and  the  excitement  was 
subsiding — word  was  returned  that  the  President  had  signed  the  bills  and  had 
nothing  further  to  offer,  a  message  having  been  sent  to  the  Senate,  and  the 
House  was  ready  to  adjourn ;  Mr.  Winthrop  made  an  eloquent  and  affecting 
address  on  relinquishing  the  Chair;  and  the  House,  a  little  before  seven 
o'clock  in  the  bright  sunshine  of  this  blessed  Sunday  morning — twice  blessed 
after  a  cloudy  week  of  fog  and  mist,  snow  and  rain  without,  and  of  fierce  con 
tention  and  angry  discord  within  the  Capitol — adjourned  sine  die. 

"  The  Senate,  I  understand,  has  not  yet  adjourned,  but  the  latter  end  of  it 
had  gathered  in  a  bundle  about  the  Vice- President's  chair,  and  was  still  pass 
ing  extra  gratuities  to  everybody — and  if  the  bottom  is  not  out  of  the  Treas 
ury,  may  be  doing  so  yet  for  aught  I  know.  Having  seen  enough  of  this,  I 
did  not  go  over  to  their  chamber,  but  came  wearily  away.*' 

March  5th.     One  more  glimpse  ought  to  be  given  at  the  House 


315 

during  that  last  night  of  the  session.  Mr.  Greeley  explains  the 
methods,  the  infamous  tricks,  by  which  the  '  usual'  extra  allowance 
to  the  employes  of  the  House  is  maneuvered  through. 

"  Let  me,"  he  wrote,  "  explain  the  origin  of  this  '  usual'  iniquity.  I  am 
informed  that  it  commenced  at  the  close  of  one  of  the  earlier  of  the  Long 
Sessions  now  unhappily  almost  biennial.  It  was  then  urged,  with  some  plau 
sibility,  that  a  number  (perhaps  half)  of  the  sub-officers  and  employ6s  of  the 
House  were  paid  a  fixed  sum  for  the  session — that,  having  now  been  obliged 
to  labor  an  unusually  long  term,  they  were  justly  entitled  to  additional  pay. 
The  Treasury  was  full — the  expectants  were  assiduous  and  seductive — the 
Members  were  generous — (it  is  so  easy  for  most  men  to  be  flush  with  other 
people's  money) — and  the  resolution  passed.  Next  session  the  precedent  was 
pleaded,  although  the  reason  for  it  utterly  failed,  and  the  resolution  slipped 
through  again — I  never  saw  how  till  last  night  Thenceforward  the  thing 
went  easier  and  easier,  until  the  disease  has  become  chronic,  and  only  to  be 
cured  by  the  most  determined  surgery. 

"  Late  last  night — or  rather  early  this  morning — while  the  House  was 
awaiting  the  final  action  of  the  Senate  on  the  Territorial  collision — a  fresh  at 
tempt  was  made  to  get  in  the  '  usual  extra  allowance'  again.  Being  objected 
to  and  not  in  order,  a  direct  attempt  was  made  to  suspend  the  Rules,  (I  think 
I  cannot  be  mistaken  in  my  recollection,)  and  defeated — not  two-thirds  rising 
in  its  favor,  although  the  free  liquor  and  trimmings  provided  by  the  expect 
ants  of  the  bounty  had  for  hours  stood  open  to  all  comers  in  a  convenient  side- 
room,  and  a  great  many  had  already  taken  too  much.  In  this  dilemma  the 
motion  was  revamped  into  one  to  suspend  the  Rules  to  admit  a  resolution  to 
pay  the  Chaplain  his  usual  compensation  for  the  Session's  service,  and  I  was 
personally  and  urgently  entreated  not  to  resist  this,  and  thus  leave  the  Chap 
lain  utterly  unpaid.  I  did  resist  it,  however,  not  believing  it  true  that  no  pro 
vision  had  till  this  hour  been  made  for  paying  the  Chaplain,  and  suspecting 
some  swindle  lay  behind  it.  The  appeal  was  more  successful  with  others,  and 
the  House  suspended  its  Rules  to  admit  this  Chaplain-paying  resolution,  on' 
of  order.  The  moment  this  was  done  a  motion  was  made  to  amend  the  reso 
lution,  by  providing  another  allowance  for  somebody  or  other,  and  upon  this 
was  piled  still  another  amendment — '  Monsieur  Tonson  come  again'  -to  pay 
'  the  usual  extra  compensation'  to  the  sub-Clerks,  Messengers,  Pages,  etc.,  eto. 
As  soon  as  this  amendment  was  reached  for  consideration — in  fact  as  soon  as  I 
could  get  the  floor  to  do  it — I  raised  the  point  of  order  that  it  could  not  be  in 
order,  when  the  rules  had  been  suspended  for  a  particular  purpose,  to  let  in, 
under  cover  of  that  suspension,  an  entirely  different  proposition,  for  which,  by 
itself,  it  was  notorious  that  a  suspension  could  not  be  obtained.  This  was 
promptly  overruled,  the  Ayes  and  Noes  on  the  amendment  refused — ditto  on 

e  Resolution  as  amended — and  the  whole  crowded  through  under  the  Previous 


316  THREE    M.ONTHS   IN    CONGRESS. 

Question  in  less  than  no  time.  Monroe  Edwards  would  have  admired  the  dex 
terity  and  celerity  of  the  performance.  All  that  could  be  obtained  was  a  vote 
by  Tellers,  and  ninety-four  voted  in  favor  to  twenty-two  against — a  bare  quo 
rum  in  all,  a  great  many  being  then  in  the  Senate — none,  I  believe,  at  that 
moment  in  the  '  extra'  refectory.  But  had  no  such  refectory  been  opened  in 
either  end  of  the  Capitol,  I  believe  the  personal  collisions  which  disgraced  the 
Nation  through  its  Representatives  would  not  have  occurred.  I  shall  not 
speak  further  of  them — I  would  not  mention  them  at  all  if  they  were  not  un 
happily  notorious  already.' ' 

March  6th.  Mr.  Greeley  was  one  of  the  three  thousand  persons 
who  attended  the  Inauguration  ball,  which  he  describes  as  "a 
sweaty,  seething,  sweltering  jam,  a  crowd  of  duped  foregatherers 
from  all  creation." 

"  I  went,"  he  says,  "  to  see  the  new  President,  who  had  not  before  come 
within  my  contracted  range  of  vision,  and  to  mark  the  reception  accorded  to 
him  by  the  assembled  thousands.  I  came  to  gaze  on  stately  heads,  not  nimble 
feet,  and  for  an  hour  have  been  content  to  gaze  on  the  flitting  phantasmagoria 
of  senatorial  brows  and  epauletted  shoulders — of  orators  and  brunettes,  office- 
seekers  and  beauties.  I  have  had  '  something  too  much  of  this,'  and  lo  !  '  the 
hour  of  hours'  has  come — the  buzz  of  expectation  subsides  into  a  murmur  of 
satisfaction — the  new  President  is  descending  the  grand  stairway  which  ter 
minates  in  the  ball-room,  and  the  human  mass  forms  in  two  deep  columns  to 
receive  him.  Between  these,  General  Taylor,  supported  on  either  hand,  walks 
through  the  long  saloon  and  back  through  other  like  columns,  bowing  and 
greeting  with  kind  familiarity  those  on  this  side  and  on  that,  paying  especial 
attention  to  the  ladies  as  is  fit,  and  .everywhere  welcomed  in  turn  with  the  most 
cordial  good  wishes.  All  wish  him  well  in  his  new  and  arduous  position,  even 
those  who  struggled  hardest  to  prevent  his  reaching  it. 

"  But,  as  at  the  Inauguration,  there  is  the  least  possible  enthusiasm.  Now 
and  then  a  cheer  is  attempted,  but  the  result  is  so  nearly  a  failure  that  the 
daring  leader  in  the  exploit  is  among  the  first  to  laugh  at  the  miscarriage. 
There  is  not  a  bit  of  heart  in  it. 

"  'They  don't  seem  to  cheer  with  much  unction,'  I  remarked  to  a  Taylor 
original. 

"  '  Ne-e-o,  they  don't  cheer  much,'  he  as  faintly  replied  ;  '  there  ia  a  good 
deal  of  doubt  as  to  the  decorum  of  cheering  at  a  social  ball.' 

11  True  enough  :  the  possibility  of  indecorum  was  sufficient  to  check  the  im 
pulse  to  cheer,  and  very  few  passed  the  barrier.  The  cheers  '  stuck  in  the 
throat,'  like  Macbeth's  Amen,  and  the  proprieties  of  the  occasion  were  well 
lared  for. 

"  But  just  imagine  Old  Hal  walking  down  that  staircase,  the  just  inaugu- 


FUIEWELL    TO   HIS    CONSTITUENTS.  31"? 

rated  President  of  the  United  States,  into  the  midst  of  three  thousand  of  the 
elite  of  the  beauty  and  chivalry  of  the  Whig  party,  and  think  how  the  rafters 
would  have  quivered  with  the  universal  acclamation.  Just  think  of  some  one 
stopping  to  consider  whether  it  might  not  be  indecorous  to  cheer  on  such  an. 
occasion !  What  a  solitary  hermit  that  considerer  would  be  ! 

******** 

"  Let  those  who  will,  flatter  the  chief  dispenser  of  Executive  patronage,  dis 
covering  in  every  act  and  feature  some  resemblance  to  Washington — I  am 
content  to  wait,  and  watch,  and  hope.  I  burn  no  incense  on  his  altar,  attach 
no  flattering  epithets  to  his  name.  I  turn  from  this  imposing  pageant,  so  rich 
in  glitter,  so  poor  in  feeling,  to  think  of  him  who  should  have  been  the  central 
figure  of  this  grand  panorama — the  distant,  the  powerless,  the  unforgotten — 
'  behind  the  mountains,  but  not  setting' — the  eloquent  champion  of  Liberty  in 
both  hemispheres — whose  voice  thrilled  the  hearts  of  the  uprising,  the  long- 
trampled  sons  of  Leonidas  and  Xenophon — whose  appeals  for  South  American 
independence  were  read  to  the  hastily  mustered  squadrons  of  Bolivar,  and 
nerved  them  to  sweep  from  this  fair  continent  the  myrmidons  of  Spanish  op 
pression.  My  heart  is  with  him  in  his  far  southern  abiding-place — with  him, 
the  early  advocate  of  African  Emancipation;  the  life-long  champion  of  a  diver 
sified  Home  Industry ;  of  Internal  Improvement ;  and  not  less  glorious  in 
his  later  years  as  the  stern  reprover  of  the  fatal  spirit  of  conquest  and  aggress 
ion.  Let  the  exulting  thousands  quaff  their  red  wines  at  the  revel  to  the  vic 
tor  of  Monterey  and  Buena  Vista,  while  wit  points  the  sentiment  with  an 
epigram,  and  beauty  crowns  it  with  her  smiles  :  more  grateful  to  me  the  still 
ness  of  my  lonely  chamber,  this  cup  of  crystal  water  in  which  I  honor  the 
cherished  memory  with  the  old,  familiar  aspiration — 

'  Here 's  to  you,  Harry  Clay !' " 

March  9th.  Mr.  Greeley  has  returned  to  New  York.  To-day  he 
took  leave  of  his  constituents  in  a  long  letter  published  in  the  Tri 
bune,  in  which  he  reviewed  the  proceedings  of  the  late  session, 
characterized  it  as  a  Failure,  and  declined  to  take  to  himself  any 
part  of  the  blame  thereof.  These  were  his  concluding  words  : 

"  My  work  as  your  servant  is  done — whether  well  or  ill  it  remains  for  you 
to  judge.  Very  likely  I  gave  the  wrong  vote  on  some  of  the  difficult  and 
somplicated  questions  to  which  I  was  called  to  respond  Ay  or  No  with  hardly 
a  moment's  warning.  If  so,  you  can  detect  and  condemn  the  error ;  for  my 
name  stands  recorded  in  the  divisions  by  Yeas  and  Nays  on  every  public 
and  all  but  one  private  bill,  (which  was  laid  on  the  table  the  moment  the 
Bitting  opened,  and  on  which  my  name  had  just  been  passed  as  I  entered  the 
Hall.)  I  wish  it  were  the  usage  among  us  to  publish  less  of  speeches  and 


318  THREE  MONTHS  IN  CONGRESS. 

more  of  propositions  and  votes  thereupon — it  would  give  the  mass  of  the  peo 
ple  a  much  clearer  insight  into  the  management  of  their  public  affairs.  My 
successor  being  already  chosen  and  commissioned,  I  shall  hardly  be  suspected 
of  seeking  your  further  kindness,  and  I  shall  be  heartily  rejoiced  if  he 
shall  be  able  to  combine  equal  zeal  in  your  service  with  greater  efficiency — 
equal  fearlessness  with  greater  popularity.  That  I  have  been  somewhat 
annoyed  at  times  by  some  of  the  consequences  of  my  Mileage  Expose  is 
true,  but  I  have  never  wished  to  recall  it,  nor  have  I  felt  that  I  owed  an 
apology  to  any,  and  I  am  quite  confident,  that  if  you  had  sent  to  Washington 
(as  you  doubtless  might  have  done)  a  more  sternly  honest  and  fearless  Rep 
resentative,  he  would  have  made  himself  more  unpopular  with  a  large  por 
tion  of  the  House  than  I  did.  I  thank  you  heartily  for  the  glimpse  of  public 
fife  which  your  favor  has  afforded  me,  and  hope  to  render  it  useful  hence 
forth  not  to  myself  only  but  to  the  public.  In  ceasing  to  be  your  agent,  and 
returning  with  renewed  zest  to  my  private  cares  and  duties,  I  have  a  single 
additional  favor  to  ask,  not  of  you  especially,  but  of  all ;  and  I  am  sure  my 
friends  at  least  will  grant  it  without  hesitation.  It  is  that  you  and  they  will 
oblige  me  henceforth  by  remembering  that  my  name  is  simply 

"HORACE    GREELEY." 

And  thus  ended  Horace  Greeley's  three  months  in  Congress.  No 
man  ever  served  his  country  more  faithfully.  No  man  ever  received 
less  reward.  One  would  have  supposed,  that  such  a  manly  and 
brave  endeavor  to  economize  the  public  money  and  the  public  time, 
such  singular  devotion  to  the  public  interests  in  the  face  of  opposi 
tion,  obloquy,  insult,  would  have  elicited  from  the  whole  country, 
or  at  least  from  many  parts  of  it,  cordial  expressions  of  approval. 
It  did  not,  however.  With  no  applauding  shouts  was  Horace 
Greeley  welcomed  on  his  return  from  the  Seat  of  Corruption.  No 
enthusiastic  mass-meetings  of  his  constituents  passed  a  series  of 
resolutions,  approving  his  course.  He  has  not  been  named  for  re 
election.  Do  the  people,  then,  generally  feel  that  an  Honest  Man 
is  out  of  place  in  the  Congress  of  the  United  States  ? 

Only  from  the  little  town  of  North  Fairfield,  Ohio,  came  a  hearty 
cry  of  WELL  DONE  !  A  meeting  of  the  citizens  of  that  place  was 
held  for  the  purpose  of  expressing  their  sense  of  his  gallant  and 
honorable  conduct.  He  responded  to  their  applauding  resolutions 
in  a  characteristic  letter.  "Let  me  beg  of  you,"  said  he,  "to  think 
little  of  Persons,  in  this  connection,  and  much  of  Measures.  Should 
any  see  fit  to  tell  you  that  I  am  dishonest,  or  ambitious,  or  hollow- 


ASSOCIATION   IN   THE    TRIBUNE   OFFICE.  319 

hearted  in  this  matter,  don't  stop  to  contradict  or  confute  him,  but 
press  on  his  attention  the  main  question  respecting  the  honesty  of 
these  crooked  charges.  It  is  with  these  the  public  is  concerned; 
and  not  this  or  the t  man's  motives.  Calling  me  a  hypocrite  or 
demagogue  cannot  make  a  charge  of  $1,664  for  coming  to  Congress 
from  Illinois  and  going  back  again  an  honest  one." 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

ASSOCIATION   IN  THE  TRIBUNE  OFFICE. 

Accessions  to  the  corps— The  course  of  the  Tribune— Horace  Greeley  in  Ohio— The 
Rochester  knocking*— The  mediums  at  Mr.  Greeley's  house—Jenny  Lind  goes  to 
see  them— Her  behavior— Woman's  Rights  Convention— The  Tribune  Association 
— The  hireling  system. 

Bur  the  Tribune  held  on  its  strong,  triumphant  way.  Circula 
tion,  ever  on  the  increase;  advertisements,  from  twenty  to  twenty- 
six  columns  daily ;  supplements,  three,  four,  and  five  times  a  week; 
price  increased  to  a  shilling  a  week  without  loss  of  subscribers ; 
Europeon  reputation  extending;  correspondence  more  and  more 
able  and  various ;  editorials  more  and  more  elaborate  and  telling ; 
new  ink  infused  into  the  Tribune's  swelling  veins.  What  with  the 
supplements  and  the  thickness  of  the  paper,  the  volumes  of  1849 
and  1850  are  of  dimensions  most  huge.  We  must  look  through 
them,  notwithstanding,  turning  over  the  broad  black  leaves  swiftly, 
pausing  seldom,  lingering  never. 

The  letter  R.  attached  to  the  literary  notices  apprises  us  that 
early  in  1849,  Mr.  George  Ripley  began  to  lend  the  Tribune  the 
aid  of  his  various  learning  and  considerate  pen.  Bayard  Taylor,  re 
turned  from  viewing  Europe  a-foot,  is  now  one  of  the  Tribune 
corps,  and  this  year  he  goes  to  California,  and  '  opens  up  '  the  land 
of  gold  to  the  view  of  all  the  world,  by  writing  a  series  of  letters^ 
graphic  and  glowing.  Mr.  Dana  comes  home  and  resumes  his  place 
in  tlte  office  as  manager  general  and  second-in-command.  During 


320  ASSOCIATION    IN    THE    TRIBUNE    OFFICE. 

the  disgraceful  period  of  Re-action,  William  Henry  Fry,  now  the 
Tribune's  sledge-hammer,  and  the  country's  sham-demolisher,  then 
an  American  in  Paris,  sent  across  the  Atlantic  to  the  Tribune  many 
a  letter  of  savage  protest.  Mr.  G.  G.  Foster  served  up  New  York 
in  savory  'slices'  and  dainty  l  items.'  Horace  Greeley  confined 
himself  less  to  the  office  than  before ;  but  whether  he  went  on  a 
tour  of  observation,  or  of  lecturing,  or  of  political  agitation,  he 
Drought  all  he  saw,  heard  and  thought,  to  bear  in  enhancing  the  in 
terest  and  value  of  his  paper. 

In  1849,  the  Tribune,  true  to  its  instinct  of  giving  hospitality  to 
every  new  or  revived  idea,  afforded  Proudhon  a  full  hearing  in  re 
views,  essays  and  biography.  His  maxim,  PROPERTY  is  ROBBERY,  a 
maxim  felt  to  be  true,  and  acted  upon  by  the  early  Christians  who 
had  all  things  in  common,  furnished  a  superior  text  to  the  conserva 
tive  papers  and  pulpits.  As  usual,  the  Tribune  was  accused  of  utter 
ing  those  benign  words,  not  of  publishing  them  merely.  On  the  oc 
casion  of  the  Astor-Place  riot,  the  Tribune  supported  the  authorities, 
and  wrote  much  for  law  and  order.  In  the  Hungarian  war,  the  ed 
itors  of  the  Tribune  took  an  intense  interest,  and  Mr.  Greeley  tried 
hard  to  condense  some  of  the  prevalent  enthusiasm  into  substantial 
help  for  the  cause.  He  thought  that  embroidered  flags  and  parch 
ment  addresses  were  not  exactly  the  commodities  of  which  Kossuth. 
stood  most  in  need,  and  he  proposed  the  raising  of  a  patriotic  loan 
for  Hungary,  in  shares  of  a  hundred  dollars  each.  "Let  each  vil 
lage,  each  rural  town,  each  club,  make  up  by  collections  or  other 
wise,  enough  to  take  one  share  of  scrip,  and  so  up  to  as  many 
as  possible  ;  let  our  men  of  wealth  and  income  be  personally  solic 
ited  to  invest  generously,  and  let  us  resolve  at  least  to  raise  one 
million  dollars  off-hand.  Another  million  will  come  much  easier 
alter  the  first."  But  alas  !  soon  came  the  news  of  the  catastrophe. 
For  a  reformed  code,  the  Tribune  contended  powerfully  during  the 
whole  time  of  the  agitation  of  that  subject.  It  welcomed  Father 
Matthew  this  year — fought  Bishop  Hughes — discussed  slavery — be 
wailed  the  fall  of  Rome — denounced  Louis  Napoleon — had  Consul 
"Walsh,  the  American  apologist  of  despotism,  recalled  from  Paris — 
helped  Mrs.  Putnam  finish  Bowen  of  the  North  American  Review 
— explained  to  workmen  the  advantages  of  association  in  labor- 
assisted  Watson  G.  Haynes  in  his  crusade  ?.guiut»t  flogging  in  the 


THE  ROCHESTER  KNOCKINGS.  321 

navy — went  dead  against  the  divorce  theories  of  Henry  James  and 
others — and  did  whatsoever  else  seemed  good  in  its  own  eyes. 
Among  other  things,  it  did  this :  Horace  Greeley  being  accused 
by  the  Evening  Post  of  a  corrupt  compliancy  with  the  slave  inter 
est,  the  Tribune  began  its  reply  with  these  words : 

"You  lie,  villain!  willfully,  wickedly,  basely  lie  1" 

This  observation  called  forth  much  remark  at  the  time. 

Thrice  the  editor  of  the  Tribune  visited  the  Great  West  this  year, 
and  he  received  many  private  assurances,  though,  I  believe,  no  pub 
lic  ones,  that  his  course  in  Congress  was  approved  by  the  Great 
"West.  In  Cincinnati  he  received  marked  attention,  which  he  grace 
fully  acknowledged  in  a  letter,  published  May  21st,  1849  : — "  I  can 
hardly  close  this  letter  without  acknowledging  the  many  acts  of 
personal  generosity,  the  uniform  and  positive  kindness,  with  which 
I  was  treated  by  the  citizens  of  the  stately  Queen  of  the  West.  I 
would  not  so  far  misconstrue  and  outrage  these  hospitalities  as  to 
drag  the  names  of  those  who  tendered  them  before  the  public  gaze ; 
but  I  may  express  in  these  general  terms  my  regret  that  time  was 
not  afforded  me  to  testify  more  expressly  my  appreciation  of  regards 
which  could  not  fail  to  gratify,  even  while  they  embarrassed, one  so 
unfitted  for  and  unambitious  of  personal  attentions.  In  these,  the 
disappointment  caused  by  the  failure  of  our  expected  National  Tem 
perance  Jubilee  was  quickly  forgotten,  and  only  the  stern  demands 
of  an  exacting  vocation  impelled  me  to  leave  so  soon  a  city  at  once 
so  munificent  and  so  interesting,  the  majestic  outpost  of  Free  Labor 
and  Free  Institutions,  in  whose  every  street  the  sound  of  the  build 
er's  hammer  and  trowel  speaks  so  audibly  of  a  growth  and  great 
ness  hardly  yet  begun.  Kind  friends  of  Cincinnati  and  of  Southern 
Ohio !  I  wave  you  a  grateful  farewell!" 

In  December  appeared  the  first  account  of  the  'Rochester  Knock- 
ings'  in  the  Tribune,  in  the  form  of  a  letter  from  that  most  practical 
of  cities.  The  letter  was  received  and  published  quite  in  the  ordi 
nary  course  of  business,  and  without  the  slightest  suspicion  on  the 
part  of  the  editors,  that  they  were  doing  an  act  of  historical  import 
ance.  On  the  contrary,  they  were  disposed  to  laugh  at  the  myste 
rious  narrative ;  and,  a  few  days  after  its  publication,  in  reply  to  an 
anxious  correspondent,  the  paper  held  the  following  language:  — 
"  For  ourselves,  we  really  cannot  see  that  these  singular  revelations 


322  ASSOCIATION    IN   THE    TRIBUNE    OFFICE. 

and  experiences  have,  so  far,  amounted  to  much.  We  have  yet  to 
hear  of  a  clairvoyant  whose  statements  concerning  facts  were  relia 
ble,  or  whose  facts  were  any  better  than  any  other  person's,  or  who 
could  discourse  rationally  without  mixing  in  a  proportion  of  non 
sense.  And  as  for  these  spirits  in  Western  New  York  or  elsewhere, 
it  strikes  us  they  might  be  better  engaged  than  in  going  about  to 
give  from  one  to  three  knocks  on  the  floor  in  response  to  success 
ive  letters  of  the  alphabet ;  and  we  are  confident  that  ghosts  who 
had  anything  to  communicate  worth  listening  to,  would  hardly 
stoop  to  so  uninteresting  a  business  as  hammering." 

Nor  has  the  Tribune,  since,  contained  one  editorial  word  intimat 
ing  a  belief  in  the  spiritual  origin  of  the  l  manifestations.'  The  sub 
ject,  however,  attracted  much  attention,  and,  when  the  Kochester 
*  mediums'  came  to  the  city,  Horace  Greeley,  in  the  hope  of  eluci 
dating  the  mystery,  invited  them  to  reside  at  his  house,  which  they 
did  for  several  weeks.  He  did  not  discover,  nor  has  any  one  dis 
covered,  the  cause  of  the  singular  phenomena,  but  he  very  soon  ar 
rived  at  the  conclusion,  that,  whatever  their  cause  might  be,  they 
could  be  of  no  practical  utility,  could  throw  no  light  on  the  tortu 
ous  and  difficult  path  of  human  life,  nor  cast  any  trustworthy 
gleams  into  the  future.  During  the  stay  of  the  mediums  at  his 
house,  they  were  visited  by  a  host  of  distinguished  persons,  and, 
among  others,  by  Jenny  Lind,  whose  behavior  on  the  occasion  was 
not  exactly  what  the  devotees  of  that  vocalist  would  expect. 

At  the  request  of  her  manager,  Mr.  Greeley  called  upon  the 
Nightingale  at  the  Union  Hotel,  and,  in  the  course  of  his  visit,  fell 
into  conversation  with  gentlemen  present  on  the  topic  of  the  day, 
the  Spiritual  Manifestations.  The  Swede  approached,  listened  to 
the  conversation  with  greedy  ears,  and  expressed  a  desire  to  witness 
some  of  the  marvels  which  she  heard  described.  Mr.  Greeley  invited 
her  to  his  house,  and  the  following  Sunday  morning  was  appointed 
for  the  visit.  She  came,  and  a  crowd  came  with  her,  filling  up  the 
narrow  parlor  of  the  house,  and  rendering  anything  in  the  way  of 
calm  investigation  impossible.  Mr.  Greeley  said  as  much  ;  but  the 
4  mediums'  entered,  and  the  rappings  struck  up  with  vigor,  Jenny 
sitting  on  one  side  of  the  table  and  Mr.  Greeley  on  the  other. 

<;  Take  your  hands  from  under  the  table/'  said  she  to  the  master 
of  the  house,  with  the  air  of  a  new  duchess. 


WOMAN'S  RIGHTS  CONVENTION.  323 

It  was  as  though  she  had  said,  '  I  did  n't  come  here  to  be  hum 
bugged,  Mr.  Pale  Face,  and  you  'd  better  not  try  it.'  The  insulted 
{Tcntleman  raised  his  hands  into  the  air,  and  did  not  request  her  to 
leave  the  house,  nor  manifest  in  any  other  way  his  evidently  acute 
sense  of  her  impertinent  conduct.  As  long  as  we  worship  a  woman 
on  account  of  a  slight  peculiarity  in  the  formation  of  part  of  her 
throat,  the  woman  so  worshiped  will  give  herself  airs.  The  blame 
is  ours,  not  hers.  The  rapping  continued,  and  the  party  retired, 
after  some  hours,  sufficiently  puzzled,  but  apparently  convinced  that 
there  was  no  collusion  between  the  table  and  the  '  mediums.' 

The  subsequent  history  of  the  spiritual  movement  is  well  known. 
It  has  caused  much  pain,  and  harm,  and  loss.  But,  like  every  other 
Event,  its  good  results,  realized  and  prospective,  are  greater  far 
than  its  evil.  It  has  awakened  some  from  the  insanity  of  indiffer 
ence,  to  the  insanity  of  an  exclusive  devotion  to  things  spiritual. 
But  many  spiritualists  have  stopped  short  of  the  latter  insanity,  and 
are  better  men,  in  every  respect,  than  they  were — better,  happier, 
and  more  hopeful.  It  has  delivered  many  from  the  degrading  fear 
of  death  and  the  future,  a  fear  more  prevalent,  perhaps,  than  is 
supposed;  for  men  are  naturally  and  justly  ashamed  of  their  fears, 
and  do  not  willingly  tell  them.  Spiritualism,  moreover,  may  be 
among  the  means  by  which  the  way  is  to  be  prepared  for  that  gen 
eral,  that  earnest,  that  fearless  consideration  of  our  religious  sys 
terns  to  which  they  will,  one  day,  be  subjected,  and  from  which  the 
truth  in  them  has  nothing  to  fear,  but  how  much  to  hope! 

It  was  about  the  same  time  that  the  Tribune  rendered  another 
service  to  the  country,  by  publishing  a  fair  and  full  report  of  the 
first  Woman's  Convention,  accompanying  the  report  with  respectful 
and  favorable  remarks.  "  It  is  easy,"  said  the  Tribune,  "  to  be 
smart,  to  be  droll,  to  be  facetious,  in  opposition  to  the  demands  of 
these  Female  Reformers;  and,  in  decrying  assumptions  so  novel 
and  opposed  to  established  habits  and  usages,  a  little  wit  will  go  a 
great  way.  But  when  a  sincere  republican  is  asked  to  say  in  sober 
earnest  what  adequate  reason  he  can  give  for  refusing  the  demand 
of  women  to  an  equal  participation  with  men  in  political  rights,  ha 
must  answer,  None  at  all.  True,  he  may  say  that  he  believes  it 
unwise  in  them  to  make  the  demand — he  may  say  the  great  major 
ity  desire  no  such  thing ;  that  they  prefer  to  devote  their  time  to 


324  ASSOCIATION   IN    THE    TRIBUNE    OFFICE. 

the  discharge  of  home  duties  and  the  enjoyment  of  home  delights, 
leaving  the  functions  of  legislators,  sheriffs,  jurymen,  militia,  to 
their  fathers,  husbands,  brothers ;  yet  if,  after  all,  the  question  recurs, 
'But  suppose  the  women  should  generally  prefer  a  complete  political 
equality  with  men,  what  would  you  say  to  that  demand  ?' — the  an 
swer  must  be,  '  I  accede  to  it.  However  unwise  or  mistaken  the 
demand,  it  is  but  the  assertion  of  a  natural  right,  and  as  such  must 
be  conceded.' " 

The  report  of  this  convention  excited  much  discussion  and  more 
ridicule.  The  ridicule  has  died  away,  but  the  discussion  of  the  subject 
of  woman's  rights  and  wrongs  will  probably  continue  until  every 
statute  which  does  wrong  to  woman  is  expunged  from  the  laws. 
And  if,  before  voting  goes  out  of  fashion,  the  ladies  should  gener 
ally  desire  the  happiness,  such  as  it  is,  of  taking  part  in  elections, 
doubtless  that  happiness  will  be  conceded  them  also. 

Meanwhile,  an  important  movement  was  going  on  in  the  office  of 
the  Tribune.  Since  the  time  when  Mr.  Greeley  practically  gave  up 
Fourierism,  he  had  taken  a  deep  interest  in  the  subject  of  Associa 
ted  Labor,  and  in  1848,  1849,  and  1850,  the  Tribune  published 
countless  articles,  showing  workingmen  how  to  become  their  own 
employers,  and  share  among  themselves  the  profits  of  their  work, 
instead  of  letting  them  go  to  swell  the  gains  of  a  'Boss.'  It  was 
but  natural  that  workingmen  should  reply,  as  they  often  did, — 4If 
Association  is  the  right  principle  on  which  to  conduct  business,  if  it 
is  best,  safest,  and  most  just  to  all  concerned,  why  "Hot  try  it  your 
self,  O  Tribune  of  the  People !'  That  was  precisely  what  the  Tri 
bune  of  the  People  had  long  meditated,  and,  in  the  year  1849,  he 
and  his  partner  resolved  to  make  the  experiment.  They  were  both, 
at  the  time,  in  the  enjoyment  of  incomes  superfluously  large,  and 
the  contemplated  change  in  their  business  was,  therefore,  not  in 
duced  by  any  business  exigency.  It  was  the  result  of  a  pure,  dis 
interested  attachment  to  principle ;  a  desire  to  add  practice  to 
preaching. 

The  establishment  was  valued  by  competent  judges  at  a  hundred 
thousand  dollars,  a  low  valuation ;  for  its  annual  profits  amounted 
to  more  than  thirty  thousand  dollars.  But  newspaper  property 
differs  from  all  other.  It  is  won  with  difficulty,  but  it  is  precarious. 
An  unlucky  paragraph  may  depreciate  it  one-half;  a  perverse  edi- 


THE    TRIBUNE    ASSOCIATION.  325 

cor,  destroy  it  altogether.  It  is  tangible,  and  yet  intangkle.  It  is 
a  body  and  it  is  a  soul.  Horace  Greeley  might  have  said,  The  Tri 
bune — it  is  /,  with  more  truth  than  the  French  King  could  boast, 
when  he  made  a  similar  remark  touching  himself  and  the  State. 
And  Mr.  McElrath,  glancing  round  at  the  types,  the  subscription 
books,  the  iron  chest,  the  mighty  heaps  of  paper,  and  listening  to 
the  thunder  of  the  press  in  the  vaults  below,  might  have  been  par 
doned  if  he  had  said,  The  Tribune — these  are  the  Tribune. 

The  property  was  divided  into  a  hundred  shares  of  a  thousand 
dollars  each,  and  a  few  of  them  were  offered  for  sale  to  the  leading 
men  in  each  department,  the  foremen  of  the  composing  and  press 
rooms,  the  chief  clerks  and  bookkeepers,  the  most  prominent  edi 
tors.  In  all,  about  twenty  shares  were  thus  disposed  of,  each  of  the 
original  partners  selling  six.  In  some  cases,  the  purchasers  paid 
only  a  part  of  the  price  in  cash,  and  were  allowed  to  pay  the  re 
mainder  out  of  the  income  of  their  share.  Each  share  entitled  its 
possessor  to  one  vote  in  the  decisions  of  the  company.  In  the 
course  of  time,  further  sales  of  shares  took  place,  until  the  original 
proprietors  were  owners  of  not  more  than  two-thirds  of  the  con 
cern.  Practically,  the  power,  the  controlling  voice,  belonged  still 
to  Messrs.  Greeley  and  McElrath  ;  but  the  dignity  and  advantage 
of  OWNERSHIP  were  conferred  on  all  those  who  exercised  authority 
in  the  several  departments.  And  this  was  the  great  good  of  the 
new  system. 

That  there  is  something  in  being  a  hired  servant  which  is  natur 
ally  and  deeply  abhorrent  to  men  is  shown  by  the  intense  desire 
that  every  hireling  manifests  to  escape  from  that  condition.  Many 
are  the  ties  by  which  man  has  been  bound  in  industry  to  his  fellow 
man  ;  but,  of  them  all,  that  seems  to  be  one  of  the  most  unfraternal, 
unsafe,  unfair,  and  demoralizing.  The  slave,  degraded  and  defraud 
ed  as  he  is,  is  safe ;  the  hireling  holds  his  life  at  the  caprice  of 
another  man ;  for,  says  Shylock,  he  takes  my  life  who  takes  from 
me  my  means  of  living.  "How  is  business?"  said  one  employer  to 
another,  a  few  days  ago.  "Dull,"  was  the  reply.  "I  hold  on 
merely  to  keep  the  hands  in  work."  Think  of  that.  Merely  to 
keep  the  hands  in  work.  Merely  !  As  if  there  could  be  a  better 
reason  for  '  holding  on ;'  as  if  all  other  reasons  combined  were  not 
infinitely  inferior  in  weight  to  this  one  of  keeping  men  in  work ; 


326  ON    THE    PLATFORM. 

keeping  men  in  heart,  keeping  men  in  happiness,  keeping  men  if 
use!  But  universal  hirelingism  is  quite  inevitable  at  present,  when 
the  governments  and  institutions  most  admired  may  be  defined  as 
Organized  Distrusts.  When  we  are  better,  and  truer,  and  wiser,  we 
shall  labor  together  on  very  different  terms  than  are  known  to  Way- 
land's  Political  Economy.  Till  then,  we  must  live  in  pitiful  estrange 
ment  from  one  another,  and  strive  in  sorry  competition  for 
triumphs  which  bless  not  when  they  are  gained. 

The  experiment  of  association  in  the  office  of  the  Tribune,  has, 
to  all  appearance,  worked  well.  The  paper  has  improved  steadily 
and  rapidly.  It  has  lost  none  of  its  independence,  none  of  its  viva 
city,  and  has  gained  in  weight,  wisdom,  and  influence.  A  vast 
amount  of  work  of  various  kinds  is  done  in  the  office,  but  it  is  done 
harmoniously  and  easily.  And  of  all  the  proprietors,  there  is  not 
one,  whether  he  be  editor,  printer,  or  clerk,  who  does  not  live  in  a 
more  stylish  house,  fare  more  sumptuously,  and  dress  more  expen 
sively,  than  the  Editor  in  Chief.  The  experiment,  however,  is  in- 
complete.  Nine-tenths  of  those  who  assist  in  the  work  of  the  Tri 
bune  are  connected  with  it  solely  by  the  tie  of  wages,  which  change 
not,  whether  the  profits  of  the  establishment  fall  to  zero  or  rise  to 
the  highest  notch  upon  the  scale. 

More  of  association  in  the  next  chapter,  where  our  hero  appears, 
for  the  first  time,  in  the  character  of  author. 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

ON     THE     P  L ATFORM. 

HINTS   TOWAUDS   REFORMS. 

The  Lecture  System— Comparative  popularity  of  the  leading  Lecturers— Horace  Gree- 
ley  at  the  Tabernacle— His  nndirnce— His  appearance— His  manner  of  speaking— 
His  occasional  addresses— The  'Hints'  published— It*  one  subject,  the  Emancipa 
tion  of  I^abor— The  Problems  of  the  Time— The  'successful'  man— The  duty  of  the 
State— The  educated  class— A  narrative  for  workingmen— The  catastrophe. 

LECTURING,  of  late  years,  has  become,  in  this  country,  what  is 
facetionsly  termed  '  an  institution.'    And  whether  we  regard  it  as  8 


THE  LECTURE  SYSTEM.  327 

means  of  public  instruction,  or  as  a  means  of  making  money,  we 
cannot  deny  that  it  is  an  institution  of  great  importance. 

"  The  bubble  reputation,"  said  Shakspeare.  Reputation  is  a  bub 
ble  no  longer.  Reputation,  it  has  been  discovered,  will  *  draw. 
Reputation  alone  will  draw  !  That  airy  nothing  is,  through  the  in 
strumentality  of  the  new  institution,  convertible  into  solid  cash,  into 
a  large  pile  of  solid  cash.  Small  fortunes  have  been  made  by  it  in 
a  single  winter,  by  a  single  lecture  or  course  of  lectures.  Thack 
eray,  by  much  toil  and  continuous  production,  attained  an  income 
of  seven  thousand  dollars  a  year.  He  crosses  the  Atlantic,  and,  in 
one  short  season,  without  producing  a  line,  gains  thirteen  thousand, 
and  could  have  gained  twice  as  much  if  he  had  been  half  as  much 
a  man  of  business  as  he  is  a  man  of  genius.  Ik  Marvel  writes  a 
book  or  two  which  brings  him  great  praise  and  some  cash.  Then 
he  writes  one  lecture,  and  not  a  very  good  one  either,  and  trans 
mutes  a  little  of  his  glory  into  plenty  of  money,  with  which  he 
buys  leisure  to  produce  a  work  worthy  of  his  powers.  Bayard  Tay 
lor  roams  over  a  great  part  of  the  habitable  and  uninhabitable  globe. 
He  writes  letters  to  the  Tribune,  very  long,  very  fatiguing  to  write 
on  a  journey,  and  not  salable  at  a  high  price.  He  comes  home, 
and  sighs,  perchance,  that  there  are  no  more  lands  to  visit.  "  Lec 
ture!"  suggests  the  Tribune,  and  he  lectures.  He  carries  two  or 
three  manuscripts  in  his  carpet-bag,  equal  to  half  a  dozen  of  his 
Tribune  letters  in  bulk.  He  ranges  the  country,  far  and  wide,  and 
brings  back  money  enough  to  carry  him  ten  times  round  the  world. 
It  was  his  reputation  that  did  the  business.  He  earned  that  money 
by  years  of  adventure  and  endurance  in  strange  and  exceedingly 
hot  countries  ;  he  gathered  up  his  earnings  in  three  months — earn 
ings  which,  but  for  the  invention  of  lecturing,  he  would  never  have 
touched  a  dollar  of.  Park  Benjamin,  if  he  swld  his  satirical  poems 
to  Putnam's  Magazine,  would  get  less  than  hod-carriers'  wages  \ 
but,  selling  them  directly  to  the  public,  at  so  much  a  hear,  they 
bring  him  in,  by  the  time  he  has  supplied  all  his  customers,  fiva 
thousand  dollars  apiece.  Lecturing  has  been  commended  as  an  an 
tidote  to  the  alleged  ;  docility'  of  the  press,  and  the  alleged  dullness 
of  the  pulpit.  It  may  be.  /praise  it  because  it  enables  the  man  of 
letters  to  get  partial  payment  from  the  public  for  the  incalculable 
services  which  he  renders  the  public. 


ON    THE    PLATFORM. 

Lectures  are  important,  too,  as  the  means  by  which  the  public 
are  brought  into  actual  contact  and  acquaintance  with  the  famous 
men  of  the  country.  What  a  delight  it  is  to  see  the  men  whoso 
writings  have  charmed,  and  moved,  and  formed  us !  And  there  is 
something  in  the  presence  of  a  man,  in  the  living  voice,  in  the  eye, 
the  face,  the  gesture,  that  gives  to  thought  and  feeling  an  express 
ion  far  more  effective  than  the  pen,  unassisted  by  these,  can  ever  at 
tain.  Horace  Greeley  is  aware  of  this,  and  he  seldom  omits  an 
opportunity  of  bringing  the  influence  of  his  presence  to  bear  in  in 
culcating  the  doctrines  to  which  he  is  attached.  He  has  been  for 
many  years  in  the  habit  of  writing  one  or  two  lectures  in  the 
course  of  the  season,  and  delivering  them  as  occasion  offered.  No 
man,  not  a  professional  lecturer,  appears  oftener  on  the  platform 
than  he.  In  the  winter  of  1853—4,  he  lectured,  on  an  average,  twice 
a  week.  He  has  this  advantage  over  the  professional  lecturer. 
The  professional  lecturer  stands  before  the  public  in  the  same  posi 
tion  as  an  editor ;  that  is,  he  is  subject  to  the  same  necessity  to  make 
the  banquet  palatable  to  those  who  pay  for  it,  and  who  will  not 
come  again  if  they  do  not  like  it.  But  the  man  whose  position  is 
already  secure,  to  whom  lecturing  is  only  a  subsidiary  employment, 
is  free  to  utter  the  most  unpopular  truths. 

A  statement  published  last  winter,  of  the  proceeds  of  a  course  of 
ectures  delivered  before  the  Young  Men's  Association  of  Chicago,  af 
fords  a  test,  though  an  imperfect  one,  of  the  popularity  of  some  of  our 
lecturers.  E.  P.  Whipple,  again  to  borrow  the  language  of  the  thea 
ter,  '  drew'  seventy-nine  dollars ;  Horace  Mann,  ninety-five  ;  Geo.  "W. 
Curtis,  eighty-seven ;  Dr.  Lord,  thirty-three ;  Horace  Greeley,  one 
hundred  and  ninety-three;  Theodore  Parker,  one  hundred  and 
twelve  ;  W.  H.  Channing,  thirty-three;  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson,  (did  it 
rain  ?)  thirty-seven ;  Bishop  Potter,  forty-five ;  John  G.  Saxe,  one  hun 
dred  and  thirty -five ;  W.  H.  C.  Hosmer,  twenty-six  ;  Bayard  Tay 
lor  (lucky  fellow !)  two  hundred  and  fifty-two. 

In  large  cities,  the  lecturer  has  to  contend  with  rival  attractions, 
theater,  concert,  and  opera.  His  performance  is  subject  to  a  com- 
mrison  with  the  sermons  of  distinguished  clergymen,  of  which  some 
are  of  a  quality  that  no  lecture  surpasses.  To  know  the  import 
ance  of  the  popular  lecturer,  one  must  reside  in  a  country  towa 
the  even  tenor  of  whose  way  is  seldom  broken  by  an  event  of  com- 


THE    TABERNACLE.  329 

manding  interest.  The  arrival  of  the  gre^t  man  is  expected  with 
eagerness.  A  committee  of  the  village  magnates  meet  him  at  the 
cars  and  escort  him  to  his  lodging.  There  has  been  contention  who 
should  be  his  entertainer,  and  the  owner  of  the  best  house  has  car 
ried  off  the  prize.  He  is  introduced  to  half  the  adult  population. 
There  is  a  buzz  and  an  agitation  throughout  the  town.  There  is 
talk  of  the  distinguished  visitor  at  all  the  tea-tables,  in  the  stores, 
and  across  the  palings  of  garden-fences.  The  largest  church  is  gen 
erally  the  scene  of  his  triumph,  and  it  is  a  triumph.  The  words  oi 
the  stranger  are  listened  to  with  attentive  admiration,  and  the  im 
pression  they  make  is  not  obliterated  by  the  recurrence  of  a  new 
excitement  on  the  morrow. 

Not  so  in  the  city,  the  hurrying,  tumultuous  city,  where  the  re 
appearance  of  Solomon  in  all  his  glory,  preceded  by  Dodworth's 
band,  would  serve  as  the  leading  feature  of  the  newspapers  for  one 
day,  give  occasion  for  a  few  depreciatory  articles  on  the  next,  and 
be  swept  from  remembrance  by  a  new  astonishment  on  the  third. 
Yet,  as  we  are  here,  let  us  go  to  the  Tabernacle  and  hear  Horace 
Greeley  lecture. 

The  Tabernacle,  otherwise  called  '  The  Cave,'  is  a  church  which 
looks  as  little  like  an  ecclesiastical  edifice  as  can  be  imagined.  It 
is  a  large,  circular  building,  with  a  floor  slanting  towards  the  plat 
form — pulpit  it  has  none — and  galleries  that  rise,  rank  above  rank, 
nearly  to  the  ceiling,  which  is  supported  by  six  thick,  smooth  col 
umns,  that  stand  round  what  has  been  impiously  styled  the  'pit,7 
like  giant  spectators  of  a  pigmy  show.  The  platform  is  so  placed, 
that  the  speaker  stands  not  far  from  the  center  of  the  building, 
where  he  seems  engulfed  in  a  sea  of  audience,  that  swells  and 
surges  all  around  and  far  above  him.  A  better  place  for  an  orator 
ical  display  the  city  does  not  afford.  It  received  its  cavernous  nick 
name,  merely  in  derision  of  the  economical  expenditure  of  gas  that 
its  proprietors  venture  upon  when  they  let  the  building  for  an 
evening  entertainment ;  and  the  dismal  hue  of  the  walls  and  col 
umns  gives  further  propriety  to  the  epithet.  The  Tabernacle  will 
contain  an  audience  of  three  thousand  persons.  At  present,  there 
are  not  more  than  six  speakers  and  speakeresses  in  the  United 
States  who  can  '  draw  '  it  full ;  and  of  these,  Horace  Greeley  is  not 


330 


ON    THE    PLATFORM. 


one.     His  number  is  about  twelve  hundred.     Let  us  suppose  it  half 
past  seven,  and  the  twelve  hundred  arrived. 

The  audience,  we  observe,  has  decidedly  the  air  of  a  country  au 
dience.  Fine  ladies  and  tine  gentlemen  there  are  none.  Of  farmers 
who  look  as  if  they  took  the  Weekly  Tribune  and  are  in  town  to 
night  by  accident,  there  are  hundreds.  City  mechanics  are  present 
in  considerable  numbers.  An  ardent-looking  young  man,  with  a 
spacious  forehead  and  a  turn-over  shirt-collar,  may  be  seen  here  and 
there.  A  few  ladies  in  Bloomer  costume  of  surpassing  ugliness — 
the  costume,  not  the  ladies — come  down  the  steep  aisles  now  and 
then,  with  a  well-preserved  air  of  unconsciousness.  In  that  assem 
bly  no  one  laughs  at  them.  The  audience  is  sturdy,  solid-looking, 
appreciative  and  opinionative,  ready  for  broad  views  and  broad 
humor,  and  hard  hits.  Every  third  man  is  reading  a  newspaper, 
for  they  are  men  of  progress,  and  must  make  haste  to  keep  up  with 
the  times,  and  the  times  are  fast.  Men  are  going  about  offering 
books  for  sale — perhaps  Uncle  Tom,  perhaps  a  treatise  on  Water 
Cure,  and  perhaps  Horace  Greeley's  Hints  toward  Reforms ;  but 
certainly  something  which  belongs  to  the  Nineteenth  Century.  A 
good  many  free  and  independent  citizens  keep  their  hats  on,  and 
some  'speak  right  out  in  meeting,'  as  they  converse  with  their 
neighbors. 

But  the  lecturer  enters  at  the  little  door  under  the  gallery  on  the 
right,  and  when  the  applause  apprizes  us  of  the  fact,  we  catch  a 
glimpse  of  his  bald  head  and  sweet  face  as  he  wags  his  hasty  way 
to  the  platform,  escorted  by  a  few  special  adherents  of  the  "  Cause" 
he  is  about  to  advocate.  The  newspapers,  the  hats,  the  conversa 
tion,  the  book-selling  are  discontinued,  and  silent  attention  is  the 
order  of  the  night.  People  with  *  causes'  at  their  hearts  are  full  of 
business,  and  on  such  occasions  there  are  always  some  preliminary 
announcements  to  be  made — of  lectures  to  come,  of  meetings  to  be 
held,  of  articles  to  appear,  of  days  to  celebrate,  of  subscriptions  to 
bo  undertaken.  These  over,  the  lecturer  rises,  takes  his  place  at 
the  desk,  and,  while  the  applause,  which  never  fails  on  any  public 
occasion  to  greet  this  man,  continues,  he  opens  his  lecture,  puts  on 
his  spectacles,  and  then,  looking  up  at  the  audience  with  an  express 
ion  of  inquiring  benignity,  waits  to  begin. 

Generally,  Mr.  Greeley's  attire  is  in  a  condition  of  the  most  hope- 


HIS    MANNER    OF    SPEAKING.  331 

less,  and,  as  it  were,  elaborate  disorder.  It  would  be  applauded  on 
the  stasre  as  an  excellent  '  make-up.'  His  dress,  it  is  true,  is  never 
unclean,  and  seldom  unsound ;  but  he  usually  presents  the  appear 
ance  of  a  man  who  has  been  traveling,  night  and  day,  for  six  weeks 
in  a  stage-coach,  stopping  long  enough  for  an  occasional  hasty  ablu 
tion,  and  a  hurried  throwing  on  of  clean  linen.  It  must  be  admit 
ted,  however,  that  when  he  is  going  to  deliver  a  set  lecture  to  a  city 
audience  his  apparel  does  bear  marks  of  an  attempted  adjustment. 
But  it  is  the  attempt  of  a  -man  who  does  something  to  which  he  is 
unaccustomed,  and  the  result  is  sometimes  more  surprising  than  the 
neglect.  On  the  present  occasion,  the  lecturer,  as  he  stands  there 
waiting  for  the  noise  to  subside,  has  the  air  of  a  farmer,  not  in  his 
Sunday  clothes,  but  in  that  intermediate  rig,  once  his  Sunday  suit, 
in  which  he  attends  "  the  meeting  of  the  trustees,"  announced  last 
Sunday  at  church,  and  which  he  dons  to  attend  court  when  a 
cause  is  coming  on  that  he  is  interested  in.  A  most  respect 
able  man ;  but  the  tie  of  his  neckerchief  was  executed  in  a  fit  of 
abstraction,  without  the  aid  of  a  looking-glass;  perhaps  in  the  dark, 
when  he  dressed  himself  this  morning  before  day-light — to  adopt 
his  own  emphasis. 

Silence  is  restored,  and  the  lecture  begins.  The  voice  of  the 
speaker  is  more  like  a  woman's  than  a  man's,  high-pitched,  small, 
soft,  but  heard  with  ease  in  the  remotest  part  of  the  Tabernacle. 
His  first  words  are  apologetic ;  they  are  uttered  in  a  deprecatory, 
slightly -beseeching  tone;  and  their  substance  is,  'You  must  n't,  my 
friends,  expect  fine  words  from  a  rough,  busy  man  like  me ;  yet  such 
observations  as  I  have  been  able  hastily  to  note  down,  I  will  now 
submit,  though  wishing  an  abler  man  stood  at  this  moment  in  my 
shoes.'  He  proceeds  to  read  his  discourse  in  a  plain,  utterly  unam 
bitious,  somewhat  too  rapid  manner,  pushing  on  through  any  mod 
erate  degree  of  applause  without  waiting.  If  there  is  a  man  in  the 
world  who  is  more  un-oratorical  than  any  other — and  of  course 
there  is  such  a  man — and  if  that  man  be  not  Horace  Greeley,  I  know 
not  where  he  is  to  be  found.  A  plain  man  reading  plain  sense  to 
plain  men;  a  practical  man  stating  quietly  to  practical  men  the 
results  of  his  thought  and  observation,  stating  what  he  entirely  be 
lieves,  what  he  wants  the  world  to  believe,  what  he  knows  will  not 
be  generally  believed  in  his  time,  what  he  is  quitt  sure  will  one  day 


332  ON    THE    PLATFORM. 

be  universally  believed,  and  what  he  is  perfectly  patient  with  the 
world  for  not  believing  yet.  There  is  no  gesticulation,  no  increased 
animation  at  important  passages,  no  glow  got  up  for  the  closing 
paragraphs;  no  aiming  at  any  sort  of  effect  whatever;  no  warmth, 
of  personal  feeling  against  opponents.  There  is  a  shrewd  humor  in 
the  man,  however,  and  his  hits  excite  occasional  bursts  of  laughter ; 
but  there  is  no  bitterness  in  his  humor,  not  the  faintest  approach  to 
it.  An  impressive  or  pathetic  passage  now  and  then,  which  loses 
none  of  its  effect  from  the  simple,  plaintive  way  in  which  it  is 
uttered,  deepens  the  silence  which  prevails  in  the  hall,  at  the  end 
eliciting  warm  and  general  applause,  which  the  speaker  *  improves1 
by  drinking  a  little  water.  The  attention  of  the  audience  never 
flags,  and  the  lecture  concludes  amid  the  usual  tokens  of  decided 
approbation. 

Horace  Greeley  is,  indeed,  no  orator.  Yet  some  who  value 
oratory  less  than  any  other  kind  of  bodily  labor,  and  whom  the 
tricks  of  elocution  offend,  except  when  they  are  performed  on  the 
stage,  and  even  there  they  should  be  concealed,  have  expressed 
the  opinion  that  Mr.  Greeley  is,  strictly  speaking,  one  of  the  best 
speakers  this  metropolis  can  boast.  A  man,  they  say,  never  does 
a  weaker,  an  un worthier,  a  more  self-demoralizing  thing  than  when 
he  speaks  for  effect ;  and  of  this  vice  Horace  is  less  guilty  than  any 
speaker  we  are  in  the  habit  of  hearing,  except  Ralph  Waldo 
Emerson.  Not  that  he  does  not  make  exaggerated  statements ;  not 
that  he  does  not  utter  sentiments  which  are  only  half  true ;  not 
that  he  does  not  sometimes  indulge  in  language  which,  when  read, 
savors  of  the  high-flown.  What  I  mean  is,  that  his  public  speeches 
are  literally  transcripts  of  the  mind  whence  they  emanate. 

At  public  meetings  and  public  dinners  Mr.  Greeley  is  a  frequent 
speaker.  His  name  usually  comes  at  the  end  of  the  report,  intro 
duced  with  "  Horace  Greeley  being  loudly  called  for,  made  a  few 
remarks  to  the  following  purport."  The  call  is  never  declined ; 
nor  does  he  ever  speak  without  saying  something;  and  when  ho 
has  said  it  he  resumes  his  seat.  He  has  a  way,  particularly  of  late 
years,  of  coming  to  a  meeting  when  it  is  nearly  over,  delivering  one 
of  his  short,  enlightening  addresses,  and  then  embracing  the  first 
opportunity  that  offers  of  taking  an  unobserved  departure. 

A  few  words  with  regard  to  the  subjects  upon  which  Horace 


333 

Greeley  most  loves  to  discourse.  In  1850,  a  volume,  con  tuning 
ten  of  his  lectures  and  twenty  shorter  essays,  appeared  from  the 
press  of  the  Messrs.  Harpers,  under  the  title  of  "  Hints  toward 
Reforms."  It  has  had  a  sale  of  2,000  copies.  Two  or  three  other 
lectures  have  been  published  in  pamphlet  form,  of  which  the  one 
entitled  "  What  the  Sister  Arts  teach  as  to  Farming,"  delivered  be 
fore  the  Indiana  State  Agricultural  Society,  at  its  annual  fair  at 
Lafayette  in  October,  1853,  is  perhaps  the  best  that  Mr.  Greeley 
has  written.  But  let  us  glance  for  a  moment  at  the  '  Hints.'  The 
title-page  contains  three  quotations  or  mottoes,  appropriate  to  the 
book,  and  characteristic  of  the  author.  They  are  these : 

"  HASTEN  the  day,  just  Heaven  ! 

Accomplish  thy  design, 
And  let  the  blessings  Thou  hast  freely  given 

Freely  on  all  men  shine  ; 
Till  Equal  Rights  be  equally  enjoyed, 
And  human  power  for  human  good  employed; 
Till  Law,  and  not  the  Sovereign,  rule  sustain 
And  Peace  and  Virtue  undisputed  reign.      HENRY  WARE." 

"  LISTEN  not  to  the  everlasting  Conservative,  who  pines  and  whines  at 
every  attempt  to  drive  him  from  the  spot  where  he  has  so  lazily  cast  his  an 
chor.  .  .  .  Every  abuse  must  be  abolished.  The  whole  system  must  be 
settled  on  the  right  basis.  Settle  it  ten  times  and  settle  it  wrong,  you  will 
have  the  work  to  begin  again.  Be  satisfied  with  nothing  but  the  complete 
tnfranchisement  of  Humanity,  and  the  restoration  of  man  to  the  image  of 
ttis  God.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER." 

"ONCE  the  welcome  Light  has  broken, 

Who  shall  say 
What  the  unimagined  glories 

Of  the  day  1 
What  the  evil  that  shall  perish 

In  its  ray  1 

Aid  the  dawning,  Tongue  and  Pen  ! 
Aid  it,  hopns  of  honest  men  ! 
Aid  it,  Paper  !  aid  it,  Type  ! 
Aid  it,  for  the  hour  is  ripe  ! 
And  our  earnest  must  not  slacken 

Into  play  : 
Men  of  Thought,  and  Men  of  Action, 

CLEAR  THE  WAY  !  CHARLES  MACKAY." 


334  ON   THE    PLATFORM. 

The  dedication  is  no  less  characteristic.  I  copy  that  also,  as 
throwing  light  upon  the  aim  and  manner  of  tl  e  man : 

"  To  the  generous,  the  hopeful,  the  loving,  who,  firmly  and  joyfully  believ 
ing  in  the  impartial  and  boundless  goodness  of  our  Father,  trust,  that  the 
errors,  the  crimes,  and  the  miseries,  which  have  long  rendered  earth  a  hell, 
shall  yet  be  swallowed  up  and  forgotten,  in  a  far  exceeding  and  unmeasured 
reign  of  truth,  purity,  and  bliss,  this  volume  is  respectfully  and  affectionately 
inscribed  by  THE  AUTHOR." 

Earth  is  not  '  a  hell.'  The  expression  appears  very  harsh  and 
very  unjust.  Earth  is  not  a  hell.  Its  sum  of  happiness  is  infinitely 
greater  than  its  sum  of  misery.  It  contains  scarcely  one  creature 
that  does  not,  in  the  course  of  its  existence,  enjoy  more  than  it 
suffers,  that  does  not  do  a  greater  number  of  right  acts  than 
wrorg.  Yet  the  world  as  it  w,  compared  with  the  world  as  a 
benevolent  heart  wishes  it  to  be,  is  hell-like  enough ;  so  we  may,  in 
this  sense,  but  in  this  sense  alone,  accept  the  language  of  the  dedi 
cation. 

The  preface  informs  us,  that  the  lectures  were  prompted  by  invi 
tations  to  address  Popular  Lyceums  and  Young  Men's  Associations, 
'  generally  those  of  the  humbler  class,'  existing  in  country  villages 
and  rural  townships.  "  They  were  written,"  says  the  author,  "  in 
the  years  from  1842  to  1848,  inclusive,  each  in  haste,  to  fulfill  some 
engagement  already  made,  for  which  preparation  had  been  delayed, 
under  the  pressure  of  seeming  necessities,  to  the  latest  moment 
allowable.  A  calling  whose  exactions  are  seldom  intermitted  for  a 
day,  never  for  a  longer  period,  and  whose  requirements,  already  ex 
cessive,  seem  perpetually  to  expand  and  increase,  may  well  excuse 
the  distraction  of  thought  and  rapidity  of  composition  which  it 
renders  inevitable.  At  no  time  has  it  seemed  practicable  to  devote 
a  whole  day,  seldom  a  full  half  day,  to  the  production  of  any  of 
the  essays.  Not  until  months  after  the  last  of  them  was  written 
did  the  idea  of  collecting  and  printing  them  in  this  shape  suggest 
itself,  and  a  hurried  perusal  is  all  that  has  since  been  given 
them." 

The  eleven  published  lectures  of  Horace  Greeley  which  lie  before 
me,  are  variously  entitled ;  but  their  subject  is  ONE  ;  his  subject  is 
ever  the  same ;  the  object  of  his  public  life  is  single.  It  is  the 


THE    EMANCIPATION   OF   LABOR  335 

4 EMANCIPATION  OF  LABOR;'  its  emancipation  from  ignorance,  vice, 
servitude,  insecurity,  poverty.  This  is  his  chosen,  only  theme, 
whether  he  speaks  from  the  platform,  or  writes  for  the  Tribune.  If 
slavery  is  the  subject  of  discourse,  the  Dishonor  which  Slavery  does 
to  Labor  is  the  light  in  which  he  prefers  to  present  it.  If  protec 
tion — he  demands  it  in  the  name  and  for  the  good  of  American 
worlcingmen,  that  their  minds  may  be  quickened  by  diversified  em 
ployment,  their  position  secured  by  abundant  employment,  the 
farmers  enriched  by  markets  near  at  hand.  If  Learning— he  la 
ments  the  unnatural  divorce  between  Learning  and  Labor,  and  ad 
vocates  their  re-union  in  manual-labor  schools.  If  'Human  Life' — • 
he  cannot  refrain  from  reminding  his  hearers,  that  "the  deep  want 
of  the  time  is,  that  the  vast  resources  and  capacities  of  Mind,  the 
far-stretching  powers  of  Genius  and  of  Science,  be  brought  to  bear 
practically  and  intimately  on  Agriculture,  the  Mechanic  Arts,  and 
all  the  now  rude  and  simple  processes  of  Day-Labor,  and  not 
merely  that  these  processes  may  be  perfected  and  accelerated, 
but  that  the  benefits  of  the  improvement  may  accrue  in  at  least 
equal  measure  to  those  whose  accustomed  means  of  livelihood — 
scanty  at  best — are  interfered  with  and  overturned  by  the  change." 
If  the  'Formation  of  Character' — he  calls  upon  men  who  aspire 
to  possess  characters  equal  to  the  demands  of  the  time,  to  "question 
with  firm  speech  all  institutions,  observances,  customs,  that  they 
may  determine  by  what  mischance  or  illusion  thriftless  Pretense 
and  Knavery  shall  seem  to  batten  on  a  brave  Prosperity,  while  La 
bor  vainly  begs  employment,  Skill  lacks  recompense,  and  Worth 
pines  for  bread."  If  Popular  Education — he  reminds  us,  that 
"the  narrow,  dingy,  squalid  tenement,  calculated  to  repel  any 
visitor  but  the  cold  and  the  rain,  is  hardly  fitted  to  foster  lofty 
ideas  of  Life,  its  Duties  and  its  Aims.  And  he  who  is  constrained 
to  ask  each  morning,  'Where  shall  I  find  food  for  the  day?' is 
at  best  unlikely  often  to  ask,  'By  what  good  deed  shall  the  day- 
be  signalized  ?' "  Or,  in  a  lighter  strain,  he  tells  the  story  of  Tom 
and  the  Colonel.  "Torn,"  said  a  Colonel  on  the  Rio  Grande  to 
one  of  his  command,  "how  can  so  brave  and  good  a  soldier  as 
you  are  so  demean  himself  as  to  get  drunk  at  every  opportu 
nity  ?" — "Colone  !"  replied  the  private,  "how  can  you  expect  all 


336  ON    THE    PLATFORM. 

the  virtues  that  adorn  the  human  character  for  seven  dollars  a 
month?"  That  anecdote  well  illustrates  one  side  of  Horace  Greeley's 
view  of  life. 

The  problems  which,  he  says,  at  present  puzzle  the  knotted  brain 
of  Toil  all  over  the  world,  which  incessantly  cry  out  for  solution, 
and  can  never  more  be  stifled,  but  will  become  even  more  vehe 
uient,  till  they  are  solved,  are  these : 

"  Why  should  those  by  whose  toil  ALL  comforts  and  luxuries  are 
produced,  or  made  available,  enjoy  so  scanty  a  share  of  them  ?  Why 
should  a  man  able  and  eager  to  work,  ever  stand  idle  for  want  of  em 
ployment  in  a  world  where  so  much  needful  work  impatiently  awaits 
the  doing  ?  Why  should  a  man  be  required  to  surrender  something 
of  his  independence  in  accepting  the  employment  which  will  enable 
him  to  earn  by  honest  effort  the  bread  of  his  family  ?  Why  should 
the  man  who  faithfully  labors  for  another,  and  receives  therefor  less 
than  the  product  of  his  labor,  be  currently  held  the  obliged  party, 
rather  than  he  who  buys  the  work  and  makes  a  good  bargain  of  it  ? 
In  short,  Why  should  Speculation  and  Scheming  ride  so  jauntily  in 
their  carriages,  splashing  honest  Work  as  it  trudges  humbly  and 
wearily  by  on  foot  ?" 

Who  is  there  so  estranged  from  humanity  as  never  to  have  pon 
dered  questions  similar  to  these,  whether  he  ride  jauntily  in  a  car 
riage,  or  trudge  wearily  on  foot  ?  They  have  been  proposed  in  for 
mer  ages  as  abstractions.  They  are  discussed  now  as  though  the 
next  generation  were  to  answer  them,  practically  and  triumph 
antly. 

First  of  all,  the  author  of  Hints  toward  Reforms  admits  frankly, 
and  declares  emphatically,  that  the  obstacle  to  the  workingman's 
elevation  is  the  workingman's  own  improvidence,  ignorance,  and 
unworthiness.  This  side  of  the  case  is  well  presented  in  a  sketch 
of  the  career  of  the  '  successful'  man  of  business : 

"A  keen  observer,"  says  the  lecturer,  "could  have  picked  him  out  from 
among  his  schoolfellows,  and  said,  '  Here  is  the  lad  who  will  die  a  bank-presi 
dent,  owning  factories  and  blocks  of  stores.'  Trace  his  history  "closely,"  he 
continues,  "  and  you  find  that,  in  his  boyhood,  he  was  provident  and  frugal — 
that  he  shunned  expense  and  dissipation — that  he  feasted  and  quaffed  seldom, 


THE    PROBLEMS    OF    THE    TIME.  3o7 

unless  at  others'  cost— that  he  was  rarely  seen  at  balls  or  froiics— that  he  was 
diligent  in  study  and  in  business— that  he  did  not  hesitate  to  do  an  uncomfoi  ta 
ble  job,  if  it  bade  fair  to  be  profitable— that  he  husbanded  his  hours  and  ma  le 
each  count  one,  either  in  earning  or  in  preparing  to  work  efficiently,  lie 
rarely  or  never  stood  idle  because  the  business  offered  him  was  esteemed  uu- 
genteel  or  disagreeable — he  laid  up  a  few  dollars  during  his  minority,  wh'uh 
proved  a  sensible  help  to  him  on  going  into  business  for  himself — he  married 
seasonably,  prudently,  respectably — he  lived  frugally  and  delved  steadily 
until  it  clearly  became  him  to  live  better,  and  until  he  could  employ  his  time 
to  better  advantage  than  at  the  plow  or  over  the  bench.  Thus  his  first  thou 
sand  dollars  came  slowly  but  surely  ;  the  next  more  easily  and  readily  by  the 
help  of  the  former  ;  the  next  of  course  more  easily  still ;  until  now  he  adds 
thousands  to  his  hoard  with  little  apparent  effort  or  care.  *  *  *  *  Talk 
to  such  a  man  as  this  of  the  wants  of  the  poor,  and  he  will  answer  you,  that 
their  sons  can  afford  to  smoke  and  drink  freely,  which  he  at  their  age  could 
not ;  and  that  he  now  meets  many  of  these  poor  in  the  market,  buying  luxu 
ries  that  he  cannot  afford.  Dwell  on  the  miseries  occasioned  by  a  dearth  of 
employment,  and  he  will  reply  that  he  never  encountered  any  such  obstacle 
when  poor  ;  for  when  he  could  find  nothing  better,  he  cleaned  streets  or  stab'e>, 
and  when  he  could  not  command  twenty  dollars  a  month,  he  fell  to  work  as 
heartily  and  cheerfully  for  ten  or  five.  In  vain  will  you  seek  to  explain  to 
him  that  his  rare  faculty  both  of  doing  and  of  finding  to  do— his  wise  adapta 
tion  of  means  to  ends  in  all  circumstances,  his  frugality  and  others'  improvi 
dence — are  a  part  of  your  case — that  it  is  precisely  because  all  are  not  creat 
ed  so  handy,  so  thrifty,  so  worldly-wise,  as  himself,  that  you  seek  so  to  modify 
the  laws  and  usages  of  Society  that  a  man  may  still  labor,  steadily,  efficiently, 
and  live  comfortably,  although  his  youth  was  not  improved  to  the  utmost,  and 
though  his  can  never  be  the  hand  that  transmutes  all  it  touches  to  gold.  Fail 
ing  here,  you  urge  that  at  least  his  children  should  be  guaranteed  an  unfail 
ing  opportunity  to  learn  and  to  earn,  and  that  they,  surely,  should  not  suffer 
nor  be  stifled  in  ignorance  because  of  their  parent's  imperfections.  Still  you 
talk  in  Greek  to  the  man  of  substance,  unless  he  be  one  of  the  few  who  have, 
in  acquiring  wealth,  outgrown  the  idolatry  of  it,  and  learned  to  regard  it  truly 
as  a  means  of  doing  good,  and  not  as  an  end  of  earthly  effort.  If  he  be  a  man 
of  wealth  merely,  still  cherishing  the  spirit  which  impelled  him  to  his  life-long 
endeavor,  the  world  appears  to  him  a  vast  battle-field,  on  which  some  must 
win  victory  and  glory,  while  to  others  are  accorded  shattered  joints  and  dis 
comfiture,  and  the  former  could  not  be,  or  would  lose  their  zest,  without  the 
latter." 

Such  is  the  *  case'  of  the  conservative.  So  looks  the  battle  of 
life  to  the  victor.  With  equal  complacency  the  hawk  may  philoso 
phize  while  he  is  digesting  the  chicken.  But  the  chicken  was  of  a 

15 


388  ON   THE   PLATFORM. 

different  opinion  ;  and  died  squeaking  it  to  the  waving  tree-tops,  aa 
lie  was  borne  irresistibly  along  to  where  the  hawk  could  most  con 
veniently  devour  him. 

Mr.  Greeley  does  not  attempt  to  refute  the  argument  of  the  pros 
perous  conservative.  lie  dwells  for  a  moment  upon  the  fact,  that 
while  life  is  a  battle  in  which  men  fight,  not  for,  but  against  each 
other,  the  victors  must  necessarily  be  few  and  ever  fewer,  the  vic 
tims  numberless  and  ever  more  hopeless.  Resting  his  argument 
upon  the  evident  fact  that  the  majority  of  mankind  are  poor,  unsafe, 
and  uninstructed,  lie  endeavors  to  show  how  the  condition  of  the 
masses  can  be  alleviated  by  legislation,  and  how  by  their  own  co 
operative  exertions.  The  State,  he  contends,  should  ordain,  and  the 
law  should  be  fundamental,  that  no  man  may  own  more  than  a  cer 
tain,  very  limited  extent  of  land ;  that  the  State  should  fix  a  defini 
tion  to  the  phrase,  '  a  day's  work ;'  that  the  State  should  see  to  it, 
that  no  child  grows  up  in  ignorance ;  that  the  State  is  bound  to 
prevent  the  selling  of  alcoholic  beverages.  Those  who  are  inter 
ested  in  such  subjects  will  find  them  amply  and  ably  treated  by 
Mr.  Greeley  in  his  published  writings. 

But  there  are  two  short  passages  in  the  volume  of  Hints  toward 
Reforms,  which  seem  to  contain  the  essence  of  Horace  Greeley's 
teachings  as  to  the  means  by  which  the  people  are  to  be  elevated, 
spiritually  and  materially.  The  following  is  extracted  from  the  lec 
ture  on  the  Relations  of  Learning  to  Labor.  It  is  addressed  to  the 
educated  and  professional  classes. 

"  Why,"  asks  Horace  Greeley,  "  should  not  the  educated  class  create  an  at 
mosphere,  not  merely  of  exemplary  morals  and  refined  manners,  but  of  pal 
pable  utility  and  blessing  1  Why  should  not  the  clergyman,  the  doctor,  the 
lawyer,  of  a  country  town  be  not  merely  the  patrons  and  commenders  of 
every  generous  idea,  the  teachers  and  dispensers  of  all  that  is  novel  in  science 
or  noble  in  philosophy — examplars  of  integrity,  of  amenity,  and  of  an  all- 
pervading  humanity  to  those  around  them — but  even  in  a  more  material 
sphere  regarded  and  blessed  as  universal  benefactors?  Why  should  they  not 
be  universally — as  I  rejoice  to  say  that  some  of  them  are — models  of  wisdom 
and  thrift  in  agriculture — their  farms  and  gardens  silent  but  most  effective 
preachers  of  the  benefits  of  forecast,  calculation,  thorough  knowledge  and 
faithful  application']  Nay,  more:  Why  should  not  the  educated  class  bo 
everywhere  teachers,  through  lectures,  essays,  conversations,  as  well  as  prac 
tically,  of  those  great  and  important  truths  of  nature,  which  chemistry  and 


THE   EDUCATED    CLASb.  339 

other  sciences  aio  just  revealing  to  bless  the  industrial  world?  Why  should 
they  not  unobtrusively  and  freely  teach  the  farmer,  the  mechanic,  the  worker 
in  any  capacity,  how  best  to  summon  the  blind  forces  of  the  elements  to  his 
aid,  and  how  most  effectually  to  render  them  subservient  to  his  needs  1  All 
this  is  clearly  within  the  power  of  the  educated  class,  if  truly  educated  ;  al/ 
this  is  clearly  within  the  sphere  of  duty  appointed  them  by  providence.  Le/ 
them  but  do  it,  and  they  will  stand  where  they  ought  to  stand,  at  the  head  of 
the  community,  the  directors  of  public  opinion,  and  the  universally  recog 
nized  benefactors  of  the  race. 

"  I  stand  before  an  audience  in  good  part  of  educated  men,  and  I  plead  fo/ 
the  essential  independence  of  their  class — not  for  their  sakes  only  or  mainly 
but  for  the  sake  of  mankind.  I  see  clearly,  or  I  am  strangely  bewildered,  a 
deep-rooted  and  wide-spreading  evil  which  is  palsying  the  influence  and  par 
alyzing  the  exertions  of  intellectual  and  even  moral  superiority  all  over  our 
country.  The  lawyer,  so  far  at  least  as  his  livelihood  is  concerned,  is  too  gen 
erally  but  a  lawyer ;  he  must  live  by  law,  or  he  has  no  means  of  living  at  all. 
So  with  the  doctor;  so  alas!  with  the  pastor.  He,  too,  often  finds  himself 
surrounded  by  a  large,  expensive  family,  few  or  none  of  whom  have  been  sys 
tematically  trained  to  earn  their  bread  in  the  sweat  of  their  brows,  and  who, 
even  if  approaching  maturity  in  life,  lean  on  him  for  a  subsistence.  This  son 
must  be  sent  to  the  academy,  and  that  one  to  college  ;  this  daughter  to  an  ex 
pensive  boarding-school,  and  that  must  have  a  piano — and  all  to  be  defrayed 
from  his  salary,  which,  however  liberal,  is  scarcely  or  barely  adequate  to  meet 
the  demands  upon  it.  How  shall  this  man — for  man,  after  all,  he  is — with  ex 
penses,  and  cares,  and  debts  pressing  upon  him — hope  to  be  at  all  times 
faithful  to  the  responsibilities  of  his  high  calling  !  He  may  speak  ever  so  flu 
ently  and  feelingly  against  sin  in  the  abstract,  for  that  cannot  give  offense  to 
the  most  fastidiously  sensitive  incumbent  of  the  richly  furnished  hundred-dol 
lar  pews.  But  will  he  dare  to  rebuke  openly,  fearlessly,  specially,  the  darling 
and  decorous  vices  of  his  most  opulent  and  liberal  parishioners — to  say  to  the 
honored  dispenser  of  liquid  poison,  '  Your  trade  is  murder,  and  your  wealth 
the  price  of  perdition  !: — To  him  who  amasses  wealth  by  stinting  honest  labor 
of  its  reward  and  grinding  the  faces  of  the  poor,  '  Do  not  mock  God  by  put 
ting  your  reluctant  dollar  into  the  missionary  box — there  is  no  such  heathen 
in  New  Zealand  as  yourself!' — and  so  to  every  specious  hypocrite  around  him, 
who  patronizes  the  church  to  keep  to  windward  of  his  conscience  and  freshen 
the  varnish  on  his  character,  '  Thou  art  the  man  !'  I  tell  you,  friends  !  he 
will  not,  for  he  cannot  afford  to,  be  thoroughly  faithful !  One  in  a  thousand 
may  be,  and  hardly  more.  We  do  not  half  sornprehend  the  profound  signifi 
cance  of  that  statute  of  the  old  church  which  inflexibly  enjoins  celibacy  on  her 
clergy.  The  very  existence  of  the  church,  as  a  steadfast  power  above  the 
multitude,  giving  law  to  the  people  and  not  receiving  its  law  day  by  day  from 
them,  depends  on  its  maintenance.  And  if  we  are  ever  to  enjoy  a  Christian 


340  ON   THE   PLATFORM. 

ministry  which  shall  systematically,  promptly,  fearlessly  war  upon  every 
shape  and  disguise  of  evil — which  shall  fearlessly  grapple  with  war  and  slave 
ry,  and  every  loathsome  device  by  which  man  seeks  to  glut  his  appetites  at 
the  expense  of  his  brother's  well-being,  it  will  be  secured  to  us  through  the 
instrumentality  of  the  very  reform  I  advocate — a  reform  which  shall  render 
the  clergyman  independent  of  his  parishioners,  and  enable  him  to  say  man 
fully  to  all,  '  You  may  cease  to  pay,  but  I  shall  not  cease  to  preach,  so  long  as 
you  have  sins  to  reprove,  and  I  have  strength  to  reprove  them  !  I  live  in 
good  part  by  the  labor  of  my  hands,  and  can  do  so  wholly  whenever  that  shall 
become  necessary  to  the  fearless  discharge  of  my  duty. 

"  A  single  illustration  more,  and  I  draw  this  long  dissertation  to  a  close.  I 
shall  speak  now  more  directly  to  facts  within  my  own  knowledge,  and  which 
have  made  on  me  a  deep  and  mournful  impression.  I  speak  to  your  experi 
ence,  too,  friends  of  the  Phenix  and  Union  Societies — to  your  future  if  not  to 
your  past  experience — and  I  entreat  you  to  heed  me  !  Every  year  sends  forth 
from  our  Colleges  an  army  of  brave  youth,  who  have  nearly  or  quite  exhausted 
their  little  means  in  procuring  what  is  termed  an  education,  and  must  now  find 
some  remunerating  employment  to  sustain  them  while  they  are  more  specially 
fitting  themselves  for  and  inducting  themselves  into  a  Profession.  Some  of 
them  find  and  are  perforce  contented  with  some  meager  clerkship;  but  the 
great  body  of  them  turn  their  attention  to  Literature — to  the  instruction  of 
their  juniors  in  some  school  or  family,  or  to  the  instruction  of  the  world  through 
the  Press.  Hundreds  of  them  hurry  at  once  to  the  cities  and  the  journals, 
seeking  employment  as  essayists  or  collectors  of  intelligence — bright  visions 
of  Fame  in  the  foreground,  and  the  gaunt  wolf  Famine  hard  at  their  heels. 
Alas  for  them  !  they  do  not  see  that  the  very  circumstances  under  which  they 
seek  admission  to  the  calling  they  have  chosen  almost  forbid  the  idea  of  their 
succeeding  in  it.  They  do  not  approach  the  public  with  thoughts  struggling 
for  utterance,  but  with  stomachs  craving  bread.  They  seek  the  Press,  not  that 
they  may  proclaim  through  it  what  it  would  cost  their  lives  to  repress,  but 
that  they  may  preserve  their  souls  to  their  bodies,  at  some  rate.  Do  you  not 
see  under  what  immense  disadvantages  one  of  this  band  enters  upon  his  selected 
vocation,  if  he  has  the  rare  fortune  to  find  or  make  a  place  in  it  ?  He  is  sur 
rounded,  elbowed  on  every  side  by  anxious  hundreds,  eager  to  obtain  employ 
ment  on  any  term? ;  he  must  write  not  what  he  feels,  but  what  another  needs ; 
must  '  regret'  or  '  rejoice*  to  order,  working  for  the  day,  and  not  venturing  to 
utter  a  thought  which  the  day  does  not  readily  approve.  And  can  you  fancy 
that  is  the  foundation  on  which  to  build  a  lofty  and  durable  renown — a  brave 
and  laudable  success  of  any  kind  1  I  tell  you  no,  young  friends  ! — the  farthest 
from  it  possible.  There  is  scarcely  any  position  more  perilous  to  generous 
impulses  and  lofty  aims — scarcely  any  which  more  eminently  threatens  to  sink 
the  Man  in  the  mere  schemer  and  st.-iver  for  subsistence  and  selfish  gratifica 
tion.  I  say,  then,  in  deep  earnestness,  to  every  youth  who  hopes  or  desires  ta 


THE  ORGANIZATION  OF  LABOR.  341 

become  use!  J  to  his  Race  or  in  any  degree  eminent  through  Literature,  Seek 
first  of  all  things  a  position  of  pecuniary  independence ;  learn  to  live  by  the 
labor  of  your  hands,  the  sweat  of  your  face,  as  a  necessary  step  toward  the 
career  you  contemplate.  If  you  can  earn  but  three  shillings  a  day  by  rugged 
yet  moderate  toil,  learn  to  live  contentedly  on  two  shillings,  and  so  preserve 
your  mental  faculties  fresh  and  unworn  to  read,  to  observe,  to  think,  thus  pre 
paring  yourself  for  the  ultimate  path  you  have  chosen.  At  length,  when  a 
mind  crowded  with  discovered  or  elaborated  truths  will  have  utterance,  begin 
to  write  sparingly  and  tersely  for  the  nearest  suitable  periodical — no  matter 
how  humble  and  obscure — if  the  thought  is  in  you,  it  will  find  its  way  to  those 
who  need  it.  Seek  not  compensation  for  this  utterance  until  compensation 
shall  seek  you ;  then  accept  it  if  an  object,  and  not  involving  too  great  sacri 
fices  of  independence  and  disregard  of  more  immediate  duties.  In  this  way 
alone  can  something  like  the  proper  dignity  of  the  Literary  Character  be  re 
stored  and  maintained.  But  while  every  man  who  either  is  or  believes  him 
self  capable  of  enlightening  others,  appears  only  anxious  to  sell  his  faculty  at 
the  earliest  moment  and  for  the  largest  price,  I  cannot  hope  that  the  Public 
will  be  induced  to  regard  very  profoundly  either  the  lesson  or  the  teacher." 

Such  is  the  substance  of  Horace  Greeley's  message  to  the  literary 
and  refined. 

I  turn  now  to  the  lecture  on  the  Organization  of  Labor,  and 
select  from  it  a  short  narrative,  the  perusal  of  which  will  enable 
the  reader  to  understand  the  nature  of  Mr.  Greeley's  advice  to 
working-men.  The  story  may  become  historically  valuable ;  be 
cause  the  principle  which  it  illustrates  may  be  destined  to  play  a 
great  part  in  the  Future  of  Industry.  It  may  be  true,  that  the 
despotic  principle  is  not  essential  to  permanence  and  prosperity, 
though  nothing  has  yet  attained  a  condition  of  permanent  pros 
perity  except  by  virtue  of  it.  But  here  is  the  narrative,  and  it  is 
worthy  of  profound  consideration  : 

"  The  first  if  not  most  important  movement  to  be  made  in  advance  of  our 
present  Social  position  is  the  ORGANIZATION  OF  LABOR.  This  is  to  be  effect 
ed  by  degrees,  by  steps,  by  installments.  I  propose  here,  in  place  of  setting 
forth  any  formal  theory  or  system  of  Labor  Reform,  simply  to  narrate  what  I 
saw  and  heard  of  the  history  and  state  of  an  experiment  now  in  progress  near 
Cincinnati,  and  which  differs  in  no  material  respects  from  some  dozen  or  score 
of  others  already  commenced  in  various  parts  of  the  United  States,  not  to 
Speak  of  twenty  times  as  many  established  by  the  Working  Men  of  Paris  and 
other  portions  of  France. 

u  The  business  of  IRON-MOLDING,  casting,  or  whatever  it  may  be  called, 


342  ON   THE   PLATFORM. 

is  one  of  the  most  extensive  and  thrifty  of  the  manufactures  of  Cincinnati,  and 
I  believe  the  labor  employed  therein  is  quite  as  well  rewarded  as  Labor  gen 
erally.  It  is  entirely  paid  by  the  piece,  according  to  an  established  scale  of 
prices,  so  that  each  workman,  in  whatever  department  of  the  business,  is  paid 
according  to  his  individual  skill  and  industry,  not  a  rough  average  of  what  is 
supposed  to  be  earned  by  himself  and  others,  as  is  the  case  where  work  ia 
paid  for  at  so  much  per  day,  week  or  month.  I  know  no  reason  why  the  Iron- 
Molders  of  Cincinnati  should  not  have  been  as  well  satisfied  with  the  old 
ways  as  anybody  else. 

"  Yet  the  system  did  not  '  work  well,'  even  for  them.  Beyond  the  general 
unsteadiness  of  demand  for  Labor  and  the  ever- increasing  pressure  of  compe 
tition,  there  was  a  pretty  steadily  recurring  '  dull  season,'  commencing  about 
the  first  of  January,  when  the  Winter's  call  for  stoves,  Ac.,  had  been  sup 
plied,  and  holding  on  for  two  or  three  months,  or  until  the  Spring  business 
opened.  In  this  hiatus,  the  prior  savings  of  the  Molders  were  generally  con 
sumed — sometimes  less,  but  perhaps  oftener  more — so  that,  taking  one  with 
another,  they  did  not  lay  up  ten  dollars  per  annum.  By-and-by  came  a  col 
lision  respecting  wages  and  a  'strike,'  wherein  the  Journeymen  tried  for 
months  the  experiment  of  running  their  heads  against  a  stone  wall.  How 
they  came  out  of  it,  no  matter  whether  victors  or  vanquished,  the  intelligent 
reader  will  readily  guess.  I  never  heard  of  any  evils  so  serious  and  com 
plicated  as  those  which  eat  out  the  heart  of  Labor  being  cured  by  doing 
nothing. 

"  At  length — but  I  believe  after  the  strike  had  somehow  terminated — some 
of  the  Journeymen  Molders  said  to  each  othej  :  '  Standing  idle  is  not  the 
true  cure  for  our  grievances  :  why  not  employ  ourselves?'  They  finally  con 
cluded  to  try  it,  and,  in  the  dead  of  the  Winter  of  1847-8,  when  a  great  many 
of  their  trade  were  out  of  employment,  the  business  being  unusually  depressed, 
they  formed  an  association  under  the  General  Manufacturing  Law  of  Ohio 
Twhich  is  very  similar  to  that  of  New  York),  and  undertook  to  establish  the 
JOURNEYMEN  MOLDERS'  UNION  FOUNDRY.  There  were  about  twenty  of 
them  who  put  their  hands  to  the  work,  and  the  whole  amount  of  capital  they 
could  scrape  together  was  two  thousand  one  hundred  dollars,  held  in  shares 
of  twenty-five  dollars  each.  With  this  they  purchased  an  eligible  piece  of 
ground,  directly  on  the  bank  of  the  Ohio,  eight  miles  below  Cincinnati,  with 
which  '  the  Whitewater  Canal'  also  affords  the  means  of  ready  and  cheap 
communication  With  their  capital  they  bought  some  patterns,  flasks,  an  en 
gine  and  tools,  paid  for  their  ground,  and  five  hundred  dollars  on  their  first 
ouilding,  which  was  erected  for  them  partly  on  long  credit  by  a  firm  in  Cin- 
tinnati,  who  knew  that  the  property  was  a  perfect  security  for  so  much  of  its 
lost,  and  decline  taking  credit  for  any  benevolence  in  the  matter.  Their  iron, 
«oal,  Ac.,  to  commence  upon  were  entirely  and  necessarily  bought  on  credit. 

"  Having  elected  Directors,  a  Foreman,  and  a  Business  Agent  (the  last  to 


A   NARRATIVE    FOR    WORKINGMEN.  343 

open  a  store  in  Cincinnati,  buy  stock,  sell  wares,  &c.)  the  Journeymen's  Union 
set  to  work,  in  August,  1848.  Its  accommodations  were  then  meager  ;  they 
have  since  been  gradually  enlarged  by  additions,  until  their  Foundry  is  now 
the  most  commodious  on  the  river.  Their  stock  of  patterns,  flasks,  <tc.,  has 
grown  to  be  one  of  the  best ;  while  their  arrangements  for  unloading  coal  and 
iron,  sending  off  stoves,  coking  coal,  &c.,  &c.,  are  almost  perfect.  They  com 
menced  with  ten  associates  actually  at  work ;  the  number  has  gradually  grown 
to  forty ;  and  there  is  not  a  better  set  of  workmen  in  any  foundry  in  America. 
I  profess  to  know  a  little  as  to  the  quality  of  castings,  and  there  are  no  better 
than  may  be  seen  in  the  Foundry  of  *  Industry '  and  its  store  at  Cincinnati. 
And  there  is  obvious  reason  for  this  in  the  fact  that  every  workman  is  a  pro 
prietor  in  the  concern,  and  it  is  his  interest  to  turn  out  not  only  his  own  work 
in  the  best  order,  but  to  take  care  that  all  the  rest  is  of  like  quality.  All  is 
carefully  examined  before  it  is  sent  away,  and  any  found  imperfect  is  con 
demned,  the  loss  falling  on  the  causer  of  it.  But  there  is  seldom  any  deserv 
ing  condemnation. 

"  A  strict  account  is  kept  with  every  member,  who  is  credited  for  all  he  does 
according  to  the  Cincinnati  Scale  of  Prices,  paid  so  much  as  he  needs  of  his 
earnings  in  money,  the  balance  being  devoted  to  the  extension  of  the  concern 
and  the  payment  of  its  debts,  and  new  stock  issued  to  him  therefor  When 
ever  the  debts  shall  have  been  paid  off,  and  an  adequate  supply  of  implements, 
teams,  stock,  Ac.,  bought  or  provided  for,  they  expect  to  pay  every  man  his 
earnings  weekly  in  cash,  as  of  course  they  may.  I  hope,  however,  they  will 
prefer  to  buy  more  land,  erect  thereon  a  most  substantial  and  commodious 
dwelling,  surround  it  with  a  garden,  shade-trees,  <fec.,  and  resolve  to  live  as 
well  as  work  like  brethren.  There  are  few  uses  to  which  a  member  can  put  a 
hundred  dollars  which  might  not  as  well  be  subserved  by  seventy-five  if  tha 
money  of  the  whole  were  invested  together. 

"  The  members  were  earning  when  I  visited  them  an  average  of  fifteen  dol 
lars  per  week,  and  meant  to  keep  doing  so.  Of  course  they  work  hard.  Many 
of  them  live  inside  of  four  dollars  per  week,  none  go  beyond  eight.  Their 
Business  Agent  is  one  of  themselves,  who  worked  with  them  in  the  Foundry 
for  some  months  after  it  was  started.  He  has  often  been  obliged  to  report,  ( I 
can  pay  you  no  money  this  week,'  and  never  heard  a  murmur  in  reply.  On 
one  occasion  he  went  down  to  say,  '  There  are  my  books ;  you  see  what  I  have 
received  and  where  most  of  it  has  gone :  here  is  one  hundred  dollar?,  which  is 
all  there  is  left.'  The  members  consulted,  calculated,  and  made  answer  :  'We 
can  pay  our  board  so  as  to  get  through  another  week  with  fifty  dollars,  and 
you  had  better  take  back  the  other  fifty,  for  the  business  may  need  it  before 
the  week  is  through.'  When  I  was  there,  there  had  been  an  Iron  note  to  pay, 
ditto  a  Coal,  and  a  boat-load  of  coal  to  lay  in  for  the  winter,  sweeping  off  all 
the  money,  so  that  for  more  than  three  weeks  no  man  had  had  a  dollar.  Yet 
no  one  had  thought  of  complaining,  for  all  knew  that  the  delay  was  dictated 


S44 


ON    THE    PLATFORM. 


not  bj  another's  interest,  but  their  own.  They  knew,  too,  that  the  assurance 
of  their  payment  did  not  depend  on  the  frugality  or  extravagance  of  some 
employer,  who  might  swamp  the  proceeds  of  his  business  and  their  labor  in  an 
c  .lucky  speculation,  or  a  sumptuous  dwelling,  leaving  them  to  whistle  for 
their  money.  There  were  their  year's  earnings  visibly  around  them  in  stoves 
nnd  hollow  ware,  for  which  they  had  abundant  and  eager  demand  in  Cinein- 
n  iti,  but  which  a  break  in  the  canal  had  temporarily  kept  back  ;  in  iron  and 
coal  for  the  winter's  work ;  in  the  building  over  their  heads  and  the  imple 
ments  in  their  hands.  And  while  other  molders  have  had  work  '  off  and  on,' 
according  to  the  state  of  the  business,  no  member  of  the  Journeymen's  Union 
has  stood  idle  a  day  for  want  of  work  since  their  Foundry  was  first  started. 
Of  course,  as  their  capital  increases,  the  danger  of  being  compelled  to  suspend 
work  at  any  future  day  grows  less  and  less  continually. 

"  The  ultimate  capital  of  the  Journeymen's  Union  Foundry  (on  the  pre 
sumption  that  the  Foundry  is  to  stand  by  itself,  leaving  every  member  to  pro 
vide  his  own  home,  Ac.)  is  to  be  eighteen  thousand  dollars,  of  which  seven 
thousand  dollars  has  already  been  paid  in,  most  of  it  in  labor.  The  remain- 
dor  is  all  subscribed  by  the  several  associates,  and  is  to  be  paid  in  labor  as  fast 
as  possible.  That  done,  every  man  may  be  paid  in  cash  weekly  for  bis  work, 
}>nd  a  dividend  on  his  stock  at  the  close  of  each  business  year.  The  workers 
b  tre  saved  and  invested  from  three  hundred  dollars  to  six  hundred  dollars 
e  ich  since  their  commencement  in  August  of  last  year,  though  those  who 
have  joined  since  the  start  have  of  course  earned  less.  Few  or  none  had  laid 
by  so  much  in  five  to  ten  years'  working  for  others  as  they  have  in  one  year 
working  for  themselves.  The  total  value  of  their  products  up  to  the  time  of 
lay  visit  is  thirty  thousand  dollars,  and  they  were  then  making  at  the  rate  of 
five  thousand  dollars'  worth  per  month,  which  they  do  not  mean  to  diminish. 
All  the  profits  of  the  business,  above  the  cost  of  doing  the  work  at  journey 
men's  wages,  will  be  distributed  among  the  stockholders  in  dividends.  The 
officers  of  the  Union  are  a  Managing  Agent,  Foreman  of  the  Foundry,  and 
five  Directors,  chosen  annually,  but  who  can  be  changed  meantime  in  case  of 
necessity.  A  Reading-Room  and  Library  were  to  be  started  directly  ;  a  spa 
cious  boarding-house  (though  probably  not  owned  by  the  Union)  will  go  up 
fiis  season.  No  liquor  is  sold  within  a  long  distance  of  the  Union,  and  there 
is  little  or  no  demand  for  any.  Those  original  members  of  the  Union  who 
were  least  favorable  to  Temperance  have  seen  fit  to  sell  out  and  go  away. 

"  Now  is  it  reasonable  that  the  million  or  so  of  hireling  laborers  throughout 
our  country  who  have  work  when  it  suits  others'  convenience  to  employ  them, 
and  must  stand  idle  perforce  when  it  does  not,  can  read  the  above  simple  nar 
ration — which  I  have  tried  to  render  as  lucid  as  possible — and  not  be  moved 
to  action  thereby  ?  Suppose  they  receive  all  they  earn  when  employed — 
which  of  course  they  generally  do  not,  or  how  could  employers  grow  rich  by 
merely  buying  their  labor  and  selling  it  again  1 — should  not  the  simple  fact 


THE    CATASTROPHE.  345 

that  these  Associated  Workers  never  lack  employment  when  they  desire  it, 
and  never  ask  any  master's  leave  to  refrain  from  working  when  they  see  fit, 
arrest  public  attention "?  Who  is  such  a  slave  in  soul  that  he  w-uld  not  rather 
be  an  equal  member  of  a  commonwealth  than  the  subject  of  a  despotism  1 
Who  would  not  like  to  taste  the  sweets  of  Liberty  on  work-days  as  well  as 
holidays  7  Is  there  a  creature  so  abject  that  he  considers  all  this  mere  poetry 
and  moonshine,  which  a  little  hard  experience  will  dissipate  1  Suppose  the 
Cincinnati  Iron-Molders'  Association  should  break  down,  either  through  some 
defect  in  its  organization  or  some  dishonesty  or  other  misconduct  on  the  part 
of  one  or  more  of  its  members — what  would  that  prove  1  Would  it  any  more 
prove  the  impracticability  of  Industrial  Associations  than  the  shipwreck  and 
death  of  Columbus,  had  such  a  disaster  occurred  on  his  second  or  third  voyage 
to  America,  would  have  disproved  the  existence  of  the  New  World  1 

The  story  is  incomplete ;  the  catastrophe  is  wanting.  It  can  be 
told  in  one  word,  and  that  word  is  failure  !  The  Union  existed 
about  two  years.  It  then  broke  up,  not,  as  I  am  very  positively  as 
sured,  from  any  defect  in  the  system  upon  which  it  was  conducted ; 
but  from  a  total  stagnation  in  the  market,  which  not  only  ruined  the 
co-operators,  but  others  engaged  in  the  same  business.  They  made 
castings  on  the  co-operative  principle,  made  them  well,  made  them 
as  long  as  anybody  would  buy  them ;  then — stopped. 

The  reader  of  the  volume  from  which  I  have  quoted  will  find  in 
it  much  that  does  less  honor  to  the  author's  head  than  his  heart. 
But  I  defy  any  one  to  read  it,  and  not  respect  the  man  that  wrote 
it.  The  kernel  of  the  book  is  sound.  The  root  of  the  matter  is 
there.  It  shows  Horace  Greeley  to  be  a  man  whose  interest  in  hu 
man  welfare  is  sincere,  habitual,  innate,  and  indestructible.  We  all 
know  what  is  the  usual  course  of  a  person  who — as  the  stupid 
phrase  is — '  rises'  from  the  condition  of  a  manual  laborer  to  a  posi 
tion  of  influence  and  wealth.  If  our  own  observation  were  not 
sufficient,  Thackeray  and  Curtis  have  told  the  whole  world  the  sorry 
history  of  the  modern  snob ;  how  he  ignores  his  origin,  and  bends 
all  his  little  soul  to  the  task  of  cutting  a  figure  in  the  circles  to 
which  he  has  gained  admittance. 

Twenty  men  are  suffocating  in  a  dungeon — one  man,  by  climb 
ing  upon  the  shoulders  of  some  of  his  companions,  and  assisted  up 
still  higher  by  the  strength  of  others,  escapes,  breathes  the  pure  air 
of  heaven,  exults  in  freedom !  Does  he  not,  instantly  and  with  all 

15* 


346  THREE  MONTHS  IN  EUROPE. 

his  might,  strive  for  the  rescue  of  his  late  companions,  still  suffer 
ing  ?  Is  he  not  prompt  with  rope,  and  pole,  and  ladder,  and  food, 
and  cheering  words  ?  No — the  caitiff  wanders  off  to  seek  his  pleas 
ure,  and  makes  haste  to  remove  from  his  person,  and  his  memory 
too,  every  trace  of  his  recent  misery.  This  it  is  to  be  a  snob. 
No  treason  like  this  clings  to  the  skirts  of  Horace  Greeley.  He  has 
stood  by  his  Order.  The  landless,  the  hireling,  the  uninstructed— 
he  was  their  Companion  once — he  is  their  Champion  now. 


CHAPTER    XXYI. 

THREE  MONTHS  IN  EUROPE. 

/he  Voysge  out— First  impressions  of  England— Opening  of  the  Exhibition— Charac 
teristic  observalions — He  attends  a  grand  Banquet — He  sees  the  Sights — He  speaks 
at  Exeter  Hall— The  Play  at  Devonshire  House— Robert  Owen's  birth-day—Horace 
Greeley  before  a  Committee  of  the  House  of  Commons — He  throws  light  upon  the 
subject — Vindicates  the  American  Press— Journey  to  Paris — The  Sights  of  Paris — 
The  Opera  and  Ballet— A  false  Prophet— His  opinion  of  the  French— Journey  to 
Italy — Anecdote — A  nap  in  the  Diligence— Arrival  at  Rome— In  the  Galleries — 
Scene  in  the  Coliseum — To  England  again — Triumph  of  the  American  Reaper — A 
week  in  Ireland  and  Scotland— His  opinion  of  the  English— Homeward  Bound- 
Hie  arrival — The  Extra  Tribune. 

"  THE  thing  called  Crystal  Palace !"  This  was  the  language 
jvhich  the  intense  and  spiritual  Carlyle  thought  proper  to  employ 
on  the  only  occasion  when  he  alluded  to  the  "World's  Fair  of  1851, 
And  Horace  Greeley  appears,  at  first,  to  have  thought  little  of 
Prince  Albert's  scheme,  or  at  least  to  have  taken  little  interest  in  it. 
"We  mean,"  he  said,  "  to  attend  the  "World's  Fair  at  London,  with 
very  little  interest  in  the  show  generally,  or  the  people  whom  it 
will  collect,  but  with  special  reference  to  a  subject  which  seems  to 
us  of  great  and  general  importance — namely,  the  improvements  re 
cently  made,  or  now  being  made,  in  the  modes  of  dressing  flax  and 
hemp  and  preparing  them  to  be  spun  and  woven  by  steam  or  water- 
power."  "Only  adequate  knowledge,"  he  thought,  was  necessary 
to  give  a  new  and  profitable  direction  to  Free  Labor,  both  agricul 
tural  and  manufacturing." 


THE    VOYAGE    OUT.  347 

Accordingly,  Horace  Greeley  was  one  of  the  two  thousand 
Americans  who  crossed  the  Atlantic  for  the  purpose  of  attending 
the  World's  Fair,  and,  like  many  others,  he  seized  the  opportuni 
ty  to  make  a  hurried  tour  of  the  most  accessible  parts  of  the  Eu 
ropean  Continent.  It  was  the  longest  holiday  of  his  life.  Holi 
day  is  not  the  word,  however.  His  sky  was  changed,  but  not  the 
man ;  and  his  labors  in  Europe  were  as  incessant  and  arduous  as 
they  had  been  in  America,  nor  unlike  them  in  kind.  A  strange  ap 
parition  he  among  the  elegant  and  leisurely  Europeans.  Since 
Franklin's  day,  no  American  had  appeared  in  Europe  whose  4  style' 
had  in  it  so  little  of  the  European  as  his,  nor  one  who  so  well  and  so 
consistently  represented  some  of  .the  best  sides  of  the  American 
character.  He  proved  to  be  one  of  the  Americans  who  can  calmly 
contemplate  a  duke,  and  value  him  neither  the  less  nor  the  more  on 
account  of  his  dukeship.  Swiftly  he  traveled.  Swiftly  we  pursue 
him. 

At  noon  on  Saturday,  the  sixteenth  of  April,  1851,  the  steamship 
Baltic  moved  from  the  wharf  at  the  foot  of  Canal-street,  with  Hor 
ace  Greeley  on  board  as  one  of  her  two  hundred  passengers.  It 
was  a  chilly,  dismal  day,  with  a  storm  brewing  and  lowering  in  the 
north -east.  The  wharf  was  covered  with  people,  as  usual  on  sailing 
days;  and  when  the  huge  vessel  was  seen  to  be  in  motion,  and  the 
inevitable  White  Coat  was  observed  among  the  crowd  on  her  deck, 
a  hearty  cheer  broke  from  a  group  of  Mr.  Greeley's  personal 
friends,  and  was  caught  up  by  the  rest  of  the  spectators.  He 
took  off  his  hat  and  waved  response  and  farewell,  while  the 
steamer  rolled  away  like  a  black  cloud,  and  settled  down  upon  the 
river. 

The  passage  was  exceedingly  disagreeable,  though  not  tempest 
uous.  The  north-easter  that  hung  over  the  city  when  the  steamer 
sailed  'clung  to  her  like  a  brother'  all  the  way  over,  varying  a 
point  or  two  now  and  then,  but  not  changing  to  a  fair  wind  for 
more  than  six  hours.  Before  four  o'clock  on  the  first  day — before 
the  steamer  had  gone  five  miles  from  the  Hook,  the  pangs  of  sea 
sickness  came  over  the  soul  of  Horace  Greeley,  and  laid  him  pros 
trate.  At  six  o'clock  in  the  evening,  a  friend,  vyho  found  him  iu 
the  smoker's  room,  helpless,  hopeless,  and  recumbent,  persuaded  and 
assisted  him  to  go  below,  where  he  had  strength  only  to  un  boot 


348  THREE  MONTHS  IN  EURO1 E. 

and  sway  into  his  berth.  There  he  remained  for  twenty-four  hours. 
He  then  managed  to  crawl  upon  deck  ;  but  a  perpetual  head-wind 
and  cross-sea  were  too  much  for  so  delicate  a  system  as  his,  and  he 
enjoyed  not  one  hour  of  health  and  happiness  during  the  passage. 
His  opinion  of  the  sea,  therefore,  is  unfavorable.  He  thought,  that 
a  sea-voyage  of  twelve  days  was  about  equal,  in  the  amount  of 
misery  it  inflicts,  to  two  months'  hard  labor  in  the  State  Prison, 
or  to  the  average  agony  of  five  years  of  life  on  shore.  It  was  a 
consolation  to  him,  however,  even  when  most  sick  and  impatient, 
to  think  that  the  gales  which  were  so  adverse  to  the  pleasure- 
seekers  of  the  Baltic,  were  wafting  the  emigrant  ships,  which  it 
hourly  passed,  all  the  more  swiftly  to  the  land  of  opportunity  and 
hope.  His  were  '  light  afflictions'  compared  with  those  of  the  mul 
titudes  crowded  into  their  stifling  steerages. 

At  seven  o'clock  on  the  evening  of  Thursday,  the  twenty -eighth 
of  April,  under  sullen  skies  and  a  dripping  rain,  the  passengers  of 
the  Baltic  were  taken  ashore  at  Liverpool  in  a  steam-tug,  which  in 
New  York,  thought  Mr.  Greeley,  would  be  deemed  unworthy  to 
convey  market-garbage.  With  regard  to  the  weather,  he  tells  us, 
in  his  first  letter  from  England,  that  he  had  become  reconciled  to 
sullen  skies  and  dripping  rains :  he  wanted  to  see  the  thing  out,  and 
would  have  taken  amiss  any  deceitful  smiles  of  fortune,  now  that 
Le  had  learned  to  dispense  with  her  favors.  He  advised  Ameri 
cans,  on  the  day  of  their  departure  for  Europe,  to  take  a  long,  ear 
nest  gaze  at  the  sun,  that  they  might  know  him  again  on  their  re 
turn  ;  for  the  thing  called  Sun  in  England  was  only  shown  occasion 
ally,  and  bore  a  nearer  resemblance  to  a  boiled  turnip  than  to  its 
American  namesake. 

Liverpool  the  traveler  scarcely  saw,  and  it  impressed  him  un 
favorably.  The  working-class  seemed  "  exceedingly  ill-dressed, 
stolid,  abject,  and  hopeless."  Extortion  and  beggary  appeared  very 
prevalent.  In  a  day  or  two  he  was  off  to  London  by  the  Trent 
Valley  Railroad,  which  passes  through  one  of  the  finest  agricultural 
districts  in  England. 

To  most  men  their  first  ride  in  a  foreign  country  is  a  thrilling 
and  memorable  delight.  Whatever  Horace  Greeley  may  have  felt 
on  his  journey  from  Liverpool  to  London,  his  remarks  upon  what 
he  s°w  are  the  opposite  of  rapturous ;  yet,  as  they  are  character- 


OPENING    OF   THE    EXHIBITION.  349 

istic,  they  are  interesting.  The  mind  of  that  man  is  a  '  studj ,'  who, 
when  he  has  passed  through  two  hundred  miles  of  the  enchmting 
rural  scenery  of  England,  and  sits  down  to  write  a  letter  about  it, 
begins  by  describing  the  construction  of  the  railroad,  continues  by 
telling  us  that  much  of  the  land  he  saw  is  held  at  five  hundred 
dollars  per  acre,  that  two-thirds  of  it  was  4in  grass,'  that  there  are 
fewer  fruit-trees  on  the  two  hundred  miles  of  railroad  between 
Liverpool  and  London,  than  on  the  forty  miles  of  the  Harlem  rail 
road  north  of  White  Plains,  that  the  wooded  grounds  looked 
meager  and  scanty,  and  that  the  western  towns  of  America  ought 
to  take  warning  from  this  fact  and  preserve  some  portions  of  the 
primeval  forest,  which,  once  destroyed,  can  never  be  renewed  by 
cultivation  in  their  original  grandeur.  '  The  eye  sees  what  it 
brought  with  it  the  means  of  seeing,'  and  these  practical  observa 
tions  are  infinitely  more  welcome  than  affected  sentiment,  or  even 
than  genuine  sentiment  inadequately  expressed.  Besides,  the  sug 
gestion  with  regard  to  the  primeval  forests  is  good  and  valuable. 
On  his  arrival  in  London,  Mr.  Greeley  drove  to  the  house  of  Mr. 
John  Chapman,  the  well-known  publisher,  with  whom  he  resided 
during  his  stay  in  the  metropolis. 

On  the  first  of  May  the  Great  Exhibition  was  opened,  and  our 
traveler  saw  the  show  both  within  and  without  the  Crystal  Palace. 
The  day  was  a  fine  one — for  England.  He  thought  the  London  sun 
shine  a  little  superior  in  brilliancy  to  American  moonlight;  and 
wondered  how  the  government  could  have  the  conscience  to  tax 
such  light.  The  royal  procession,  he  says,  was  not  much ;  a  parade 
of  the  New  York  Firemen  or  Odd  Fellows  could  beat  it ;  but  then 
it  was  a  new  thing  to  see  a  Queen,  a  court,  and  an  aristocracy  doing 
honor  to  industry.  He  was  glad  to  see  the  queen  in  the  pageant, 
though  he  could  not  but  feel  that  her  vocation  was  behind  the  intel 
ligence  of  the  age,  and  likely  to  go  out  of  fashion  at  no  distant  day ; 
but  not  through  her  fault.  He  could  not  see,  however,  what  the 
Master  of  the  Buck-hounds,  the  Groom  of  the  Stole,  the  Mistress  of 
the  Robes,  and  'such  uncouth  fossils,'  had  to  do  with  a  grand  ex 
hibition  of  the  fruits  of  industry.  The  Mistress  of  the  Robes  made 
no  robes ;  the  Ladies  of  the  Bed-chamber  did  nothing  with  beds  but 
sleep  on  them.  The  posts  of  honor  nearest  the  Queen's  person  ought 
to  have  been  confided  to  the  descendants  of  Watt  and  Arkwright, 


350  THREE  MONTHS  IN  EUXOPE. 

'Nupcleon's  real  conquerors;1  while  the  foreign  ambassadors  should 
have  heen  the  sons  of  Fitch,  Fulton,  Whitney,  Daguerre  and  Morse; 
and  the  places  less  conspicuous  should  have  been  assigned,  not  to 
Gold-stick,  Silver-stick,  and  'kindred  absurdities,'  but  to  the  Queen's 
gardeners,  horticulturists,  carpenters,  upholsterers  and  milliners! 
(Fancy  Gold-stick  reading  this  passage !)  The  traveler,  however, 
even  at  such  a  moment  is  not  unmindful  of  similar  nuisances  across 
the  ocean,  and  pauses  to  express  the  hope  that  we  may  he  able,  be 
fore  the  century  is  out,  to  elect  '  something  else'  than  Generals  to 
the  Presidency. 

Before  the  arrival  of  Mr.  Greeley  in  London,  he  had  been  named 
by  the  American  Commissioner  as  a  member  of  the  Jury  on  Hard 
ware,  etc.  There  were  so  few  Americans  in  London  at  the  time, 
who  were  not  exhibitors,  that  ho  did  not  feel  at  liberty  to  decline 
the  duties  of  the  proffered  post,  and  accordingly  devoted  nearly 
everyday,  from  ten  o'clock  to  three,  for  a  month,  to  an  examination 
of  the  articles  upon  whose  comparative  merits  the  jury  were  to  de 
cide.  Few  men  would  have  spent  their  first  month  in  Europe  in 
the  discharge  of  a  duty  so  onerous,  so  tedious,  and  so  likely  to  be 
thankless.  His  reward,  however,  was,  that  his  official  position 
opened  to  him  sources  of  information,  gave  him  facilities  for  obser 
vation,  and  enabled  him  to  form  acquaintances,  that  would  not  have 
been  within  the  compass  of  a  mere  spectator  of  the  Exhibition. 
Among  other  advantages,  it  procured  him  a  seat  at  the  banquet 
given  at  Richmond  by  the  London  Commissioners  to  the  Commis 
sioners  from  foreign  countries,  a  feast  presided  over  by  Lord  Ash- 
burton,  and  attended  by  an  ample  representation  of  the  science, 
talent,  worth  and  rank  of  both  hemispheres.  It  was  the  particular 
desire  of  Lord  Ash  burton  that  the  health  of  Mr.  Paxton,  the  Archi 
tect  of  the  Palace,  should  be  proposed  by  an  American,  and  Mr. 
Riddle,  the  American  Commissioner,  designated  Horace  Greeley  for 
that  service.  The  speech  delivered  by  him  on  that  occasion,  since 
it  is  short,  appropriate,  and  characteristic,  may  properly  have  a 
place  here.  Mr.  Greeley,  being  called  upon  by  the  Chairman,  spoke 
as  follows : 

"  In  my  own  land,  ray  lords  and  gentlemen,  where  Nature  is  still  so  rugged 
and  unconquered,  where  Population  is  yet  so  scanty  and  the  demands  for  hu 
man  exertion  are  so  various  and  urgent,  it  is  but  natural  that  we  should  ren- 


HE    ATTENDS    A   GREAT    BANQUET.  351 

dor  marked  honor  to  Labor,  and  especially  to  those  who  by  invention  or  dis 
covery  contribute  to  shorten  the  processes  and  increase  the  efficiency  of  Indus 
try.  It  is  but  natural,  therefore,  that  this  grand  conception  of  a  comparison* 
of  the  state  of  Industry  in  all  Nations:  by  means  of  a  World's  Exhibition, 
should  there  have  been  received  and  canvassed  with  a  lively  and  general  in- 
lerest, — an  interest  which  is  not  measured  by  the  extent  of  our  contributions, 
Ours  is  still  one  of  the  youngest  of  Nations,  with  few  large  accumulations  of 
the  fruits  of  manufacturing  activity  or  artistic  skill,  and  these  so  generally 
jeeded  for  use  that  we  were  not  likely  to  send  them  three  thousand  miles 
Away,  merely  for  show.  It  is  none  the  less  certain  that  the  progress  of  this 
great  Exhibition,  from  its  original  conception  to  that  perfect  realization  which 
we  here  commemorate,  has  been  watched  and  discussed  not  more  earnestly 
throughout  the  saloons  of  Europe,  than  by  the  smith's  forge  and  the  mechanic's 
bench  in  America.  Especially  the  hopes  and  fears  alternately  predominant  on 
this  side  with  respect  to  the  edifice  required  for  the  Exhibition — the  doubts  as 
to  the  practicability  of  erecting  one  sufficiently  capacious  and  commodious  to 
contain  and  display  the  contributions  of  the  whole  world— the  apprehension 
that  it  could  not  be  rendered  impervious  to  water — the  confident  assertions  that 
it  could  not  be  completed  in  season  for  opening  the  Exhibition  on  the  first  of 
May  as  promised — all  found  an  echo  on  our  shores  ;  and  now  the  tidings  that 
all  these  doubts  have  been  dispelled,  these  difficulties  removed,  will  have  been 
hailed  there  with  unmingled  satisfaction. 

"I  trust,  gentlemen,  that  among  the  ultimate  fruits  of  this  Exhibition  we 
are  to  reckon  a  wider  and  deeper  appreciation  of  the  worth  of  Labor,  and 
especially  of  those  '  Captains  of  Industry'  by  whose  conceptions  and  achieve 
ments  our  Race  is  so  rapidly  borne  onward  in  its  progress  to  a  loftier  and 
more  benignant  destiny.  We  shall  not  be  likely  to  appreciate  less  fully  the 
merits  of  the  wise  Statesmen,  by  whose  measures  a  People's  thrift  and  hap 
piness  are  promoted — of  the  brave  Soldier,  who  joyfully  pours  out  his  blood  in 
defense  of  the  rights  or  in  vindication  of  the  honor  of  his  Country — of  the 
Sacred  Teacher,  by  whose  precepts  and  example  our  steps  are  guided  in  the 
pathway  to  heaven — if  we  render  fit  honor  also  to  those  'Captains  of  Industry' 
whose  tearless  victories  redden  no  river  and  whose  conquering  march  is  un 
marked  by  the  tears  of  the  widow  and  the  cries  of  the  orphan.  I  give  you, 
therefore, 

"  The,  Health  of  Joseph  Paxton,  Esq.,  Designer  of  the  Crystal  Palace — 
Honor  to  him  whose  genius  does  honor  to  Industry  and  to  Man  !" 

This  speech  was  not  published  in  the  newspaper  report  of  the 
banquet,  nor  was  the  name  of  the  speaker  even  mentioned.  The 
omission  gave  him  an  opportunity  to  retort  upon  the  London  Times 
its  assertion,  that  with  the  English  press,  'fidelity  in  reporting  is  a 
religion.'  The  speech  was  w  itten  out  by  Mr.  Greeley  himself,  and 


352  THREE  MONTHS  IN  EUROPE. 

published  in  the  Tribune.  It  must  be  confessed,  that  the  grad  j^e 
of  a  Vermont  printing-office  made  a  creditable  appearance  boibre 
the  *  lords  and  gentlemen.' 

The  sights  in  and  about  London  seem  to  have  made  no  great  im 
pression  on  the  mind  of  Horace  Greeley.  He  spent  a  day  at  Hamp 
ton  Court,  which  he  oddly  describes  as  larger  than  the  Astc*'  House, 
but  less  lofty  and  containing  fewer  rooms.  Westminster  Abbey 
appeared  to  him  a  mere  barbaric  profusion  of  lofty  ceilings,  stained 
windows,  carving,  groining,  and  all  manner  of  contrivances  for 
absorbing  labor  and  money — '  waste,  not  taste ;  the  contortions  of  the 
sybil  without  her  inspiration.'  The  part  of  the  building  devoted  to 
public  worship  he  thought  less  adapted  to  that  purpose  than  a  fifty- 
thousand  dollar  church  in  New  York.  The  new  fashion  of  *  inton 
ing  '  the  service  sounded  to  his  ear,  as  though  a  Friar  Tuck  had 
wormed  himself  into  the  desk  and  was  trying,  under  pretense  of 
reading  the  service,  to  caricature,  as  broadly  as  possible,  the  alleged 
peculiarity  of  the  methodistic  pulpit  super-imposed  upon  the  regular 
Yankee  drawl.  The  Epsom  races  he  declined  to  attend  for  three 
reasons;  he  had  much  to  do  at  home,  he  did  not  care  a  button 
which  of  thirty  colts  could  run  fastest,  and  he  preferred  that  his 
delight  and  that  of  swindlers,  robbers,  and  gamblers,  should  not 
'  exactly  coincide.'  He  found  time,  however,  to  visit  the  Model 
Lodging  houses,  the  People's  Bathing  establishments,  and  a  Ragged 
School.  The  spectacle  of  want  and  woe  presented  at  the  Ragged 
School  touched  him  nearly.  It  made  him  feel,  to  quote  his  own 
language,  that  "he  had  hitherto  said  too  little,  done  too  little,  dared 
too  little,  sacrified  too  little,  to  awaken  attention  to  the  infernal 
wrongs  and  abuses,  which  are  inherent  in  the  very  structure  and 
constitution,  the  nature  and  essence  of  civilized  society,  as  it  now 
exists  throughout  Christendom."  He  was  in  haste  to  be  gone  from 
a  scene,  to  look  upon  which,  as  a  mere  visitor,  seemed  an  insult 
heaped  on  injury,  an  unjustifiable  prying  into  the  saddest  secrets  of 
the  prison-house  of  human  woe ;  but  he  apologized  for  the  fancied 
impertinence  by  a  gift  of  money. 

While  in  London,  Mr.  Greeley  attended  the  anniversary  of  the 
British  and  Foreign  Anti-Slavery  Society,  and  made  a  speech  cf  a 
somewhat  nov^l  and  unexpected  nature.  The  question  that  was 
under  discussion  was,  'What  can  we  Britons  do  to  hasten  the  over- 


HE  SPEAKS  AT  EXETER  HALL.  353 

throw  of  Slavery?'  Three  colored  gentlemen  and  an  M.  P.  had 
extolled  Britain  as  the  land  of  true  freedom  and  equality,  had 
urged  Britons  to  refuse  recognition  to  '  pro-slavery  clergymen,'  to 
avoid  using  the  products  of  slave-labor,  and  to  assist  the  free-colored 
people  to  educate  their  children.  One  of  the  colored  orators  had 
observed  the  entrance  of  Horace  Greeley,  and  named  him  commend- 
ingly  to  the  audience;  whereupon  he  was  invited  to  take  a  seat 
upon  the  platform,  and  afterwards  to  address  the  meeting;  both  of 
which  invitations  were  promptly  accepted.  He  spoke  fifteen  min 
utes.  He  began  by  stating  the  fact,  that  American  Slavery  justifies 
itself  mainly  on  the  ground,  that  the  class  who  live  by  manual  toil 
are  everywhere,  but  particularly  in  England,  degraded  and  ill-re 
quited.  Therefore,  he  urged  upon  English  Abolitionists,  first,  to  use 
systematic  exertions  to  increase  the  reward  of  Labor  and  the  com 
fort  and  consideration  of  the  depressed  Laboring  Class  at  home; 
and  to  diffuse  and  cherish  respect  for  Man  as  Man,  without  regard 
to  class,  color  or  vocation.  Secondly,  to  put  forth  determined  ef 
forts  for  the  eradication  of  those  Social  evils  and  miseries  in  Eng 
land  which  are  appealed  to  and  relied  on  by  slaveholders  and  their 
champions  everywhere  as  justifying  the  continuance  of  Slavery; 
and  thirdly,  to  colonize  our  Slave  States  by  thousands  of  intelligent, 
moral,  industrious  Free  Laborers,  who  will  silently  and  practically 
dispel  the  wide-spread  delusion  which  affirms  that  the  Southern 
States  must  be  cultivated  and  their  great  staples  produced  by  Slave 
Labor,  or  not  at  all. 

These  suggestions  were  listened  to  with  respectful  attention ;  but 
they  did  not  elicit  the  'thunder  of  applause'  which  had  greeted  the 
'Stand-aside-for-I-am-holier-than-thou'  oratory  of  the  preceding 
speakers. 

Our  traveler  witnessed  the  second  performance  at  the  Devonshire 
House,  of  Bulwer's  play,  'Not  so  Bad  as  we  Seem,'  for  the  benefit 
of  the  Literary  Guild,  the  characters  by  Charles  Dickens,  Douglas 
Jerrold,  and  other  literary  notabilities.  Not  that  he  hoped  much 
for  the  success  of  the  project;  but  it  was,  at  least,  an  attempt  to 
mend  the  fortunes  of  unlucky  British  authors,  whose  works  '  we 
Americans  habitually  steal,'  and  to  whom  he,  as  an  individual,  felt 
himself  indebted.  The  price  of  the  tickets  for  the  first  performance 
was  twenty -five  <}  ollars.  He  applied  for  one  too  late,  and  #as  there- 


354  THREE  MONTHS  IN  EUROPE. 

for<5  olj  .iged  to  content  himself  with  purchasing  a  ten-dollar  ticket 
for  the  second.  The  play,  however,  he  found  rather  dull  than 
otherwise,  the  performance  being  indebted,  he  thought,  for  its  main 
interest  to  the  personal  character  of  the  actors,  who  played  respect 
ably  for  amateurs,  but  not  well.  Dickens  was  not  at  home  in  the 
lending  part,  as  'stateliness  sits  ill  upon  him;'  but  he  shone  in  the 
scene  where,  as  a  bookseller  in  disguise,  he  tempts  the  virtue  of  a 
poor  author.  In  the  afterpiece,  however,  in  which  the  novelist 
personated  in  rapid  succession  a  lawyer,  a  servant,  a  gentleman  and 
an  invalid,  the  acting  seemed  '  perfect,'  and  the  play  was  heartily 
enjoyed  throughout.  Mr.  Greeley  thought,  that  the  "raw  material 
of  a  capital  comedian  was  put  to  a  better  use  when  Charles  Dickens 
took  to  authorship."  It  was  half-past  twelve  when  the  curtain  fell, 
and  the  audience  repaired  to  a  supper  room,  where  the  munificence 
of  the  Duke  of  Devonshire  had  provided  a  superb  and  profuse  enter 
tainment.  "I  did  not  venture,  at  that  hour,"  says  the  traveler,  "  to 
partnke ;  but  those  who  did  would  be  quite  unlikely  to  repent  of  it 
— till  morning."  He  left  the  ducal  mansion  at  one,  just  as  '  the  vio 
lins  began  to  give  note  of  coming  melody,  to  which  nimble  feet 
were  eager  to  respond.' 

The  eightieth  birthday  of  Robert  Owen  was  celebrated  on  the 
fourteenth  of  May,  by  a  dinner  at  the  Colbourne  hotel,  attended  by 
a  few  of  Mr.  Owen's  personal  friends,  among  whom  Horace  Gree 
ley  was  one.  "I  cannot,"  wrote  Mr.  Greeley,  "see  many  things  as 
he  does ;  it  seems  to  me  that  he  is  stone-blind  on  the  side  of  Faith 
in  the  invisible,  and  exaggerates  the  truths  he  perceives  until  they 
almost  become  falsehoods  ;  but  I  love  his  sunny, benevolent  nature, 
I  admire  his  unwearied  exertions  for-  what  he  deems  the  good  of 
humanity ;  and,  believing  with  the  great  apostle  to  the  Gentiles, 
that  '  Now  abide  faith,  hope,  charity  ;  these  three ;  but  the  great 
est  of  these  is  charity,'  I  consider  him  practically  a  better  Chris 
tian  than  half  those  who,  professing  to  be  such,  believe  more  and  do 
less."  The  only  other  banquet  at  winch  Mr.  Greeley  was  a  guest  in 
London  during  his  first  visit,  was  the  dinner  of  the  Fishmonger's 
Company.  There  he  heard  a  harangue  from  from  Sir  James 
Brooke,  the  Rajah  of  Borneo.  From  reading,  he  had  formed  the 
opinion  that  the  Rajah  was  doing  a  good  work  for  civilization 
and  humanity  in  Borneo,  but  this  impression  was  not  confirmed 


BE1ORE  A  COMMITTEE  OF  THE  HOUSE  OF  COMMONS.  355 

by  the  ornate  and  fluent  speech  delivered  by  him  on  this  occa 
sion. 

During  Mr.  Greeley's  stay  in  London,  the  repeal  of  the  '  taxes  on 
knowledge '  was  agitated  in  and  out  of  parliament.  Those  taxes 
were  a  duty  on  advertisements,  and  a  stamp-duty  of  one  penny  per 
copy  on  «»-5rv  periodical  containing  news.  A  parliamentary  com 
mittee,  consisting  of  eight  members  of  the  House  of  Commons,  tho 
Rt.  Hon.  T.  Milnor  Gibson,  Messrs.  Tufnell,  Ewart,  Cobden,  Rich, 
Adair,  Hamilton,  and  Sir  J.  Walmsey,  had  the  subject  under  con 
sideration,  and  Mr.  Greeley,  as  the  representative  of  the  only  un- 
toammeled  press  in  the  world,  was  invited  to  give  the  committee 
the  benefit  of  his  experience.  Mr.  Greeley's  evidence,  given  in 
two  sessions  of  the  committee,  no  doubt  had  influence  upon  the 
subsequent  action  of  parliament.  The  advertisement  duty  was  en 
tirely  removed.  The  penny  stamp  was  retained  for  revenue  rea 
sons  only,  but  must  finally  yield  to  the  demands  of  the  nation. 

The  chief  part  of  Mr.  Greeley's  evidence  claims  a  place  in  this 
work,  both  because  of  its  interesting  character,  and  because  it 
really  influenced  legislation  on  a  subject  of  singular  importance. 
He  told  England  what  England  did  not  understand  before  he  told 
her — why  the  Times  newspaper  was  devouring  its  contemporaries  ; 
and  he  assisted  in  preparing  the  way  for  that  coining  penny-press 
which  is  destined  to  play  so  great  a  part  in  the  future  of  '  Great 
England.' 

In  reply  to  a  question  by  the  chairman  of  the  committee  with  re 
gard  to  the  effect  of  the  duty  upon  the  advertising  business,  Mr. 
Greeley  replied  substantially  as  follows : 

"Your  duty  is  the  same  on  the  advertisements  in  a  journal  with  fifty 
thousand  circulation,  as  in  a  journal  with  one  thousand,  although  the  value 
of  the  article  is  twenty  times  as  much  in  the  one  case  as  in  the  other.  The 
duty  operates  precisely  as  though  you  were  to  lay  a  tax  of  one  shilling  a  day 
on  every  day's  labor  that  a  man  were  to  do ;  to  a  man  whose  labor  is  wprth 
two  shillings  a  day,  it  would  be  destructive  ;  while  by  a  man  who  earns  twen 
ty  shillings  a  day,  it  would  be  very  lightly  felt.  An  advertisement  is  worth 
but  a  certain  amount,  and  the  public  soon  get  to  know  what  it  is  worth  ;  you 
put  a  duty  on  advertisements  and  you  destroy  the  value  of  those  coming  to 
Dew  establishments.  People  who  advertise  in  your  well-established  journals, 
»ould  afford  to  nav  a  price  to  include  the  duty  ;  but  in  a  new  paper,  tho  adver 


356  THREE  MONTHS  IN  EUROPE. 

tisements  would  not  be  worth  the  amount  of  the  duty  alone ;  and  consequent 
ly  the  new  concern  would  have  no  chance  Now,  the  advertisements  are  one 
main  source  of  the  income  of  daily  papers,  and  thousands  of  business  men 
take  them  mainly  for  those  advertisements.  For  instance,  at  the  time  when 
our  auctioneers  were  appointed  bylaw  (they  were,  of  course,  party  j  oliticians), 
one  journal,  which  was  high  in  the  confidence  of  ,he  party  in  power,  obtained 
not  a  law,  but  an  understanding,  that  all  the  auctioneers  appointed  should  ad 
vertise  in  that  journal.  Now,  though  the  journal  referred  to  has  ceased  to 
be  of  that  party,  and  the  auctioneers  are  no  longer  appointed  by  the  State, 
yet  that  journal  has  almost  the  mtnopoly  of  the  auctioneers'  business  to  this 
day.  Auctioneers  must  advertise  in  it  because  they  know  that  purchasers  are 
looking  there  ;  and  purchasers  must  take  the  paper,  because  they  know  that  it 
contains  just  the  advertisements  they  want  to  see ;  and  this,  without  regard  to 
the  goodness  or  the  principles  of  the  paper.  I  know  men  in  this  town  who 
take  one  journal  mainly  for  its  advertisements,  and  they  must  take  the  Times, 
because  everything  is  advertised  in  it ;  for  the  same  reason,  advertisers  must 
advertise  in  the  Times.  If  we  had  a  duty  on  advertisements,  I  will  not  say 
it  would  be  impossible  to  build  a  new  concern  up  in  New  York  against  the 
competition  of  the  older  ones  ;  but  I  do  say,  it  would  be  impossible  to  preserve 
the  weaker  papers  from  being  swallowed  up  by  the  stronger." 

Mr.  COBDEN.  "  Do  you  then  consider  the  fact,  that  the  Times  newspaper 
for  the  last  fifteen  years  has  been  increasing  so  largely  in  circulation,  is  to  be 
accounted  for  mainly  by  the  existence  of  the  advertisement  duty  7" 

Mr.  GREELEY.  "  Yes ;  much  more  than  the  stamp.  By  the  operation  of  the 
advertisement  duty,  an  advertisement  is  charged  ten  times  as  much  in  one 
paper  as  in  another.  An  advertisement  in  the  Times  may  be  worth  five 
pounds,  while  in  another  paper  it  is  only  worth  one  pound ;  but  the  duty  is 
the  same." 

Mr.  RICH.  "The  greater  the  number  of  small  advertisements  in  papers, 
the  greater  the  advantage  to  their  proprietors  7" 

Mr.  GREELEY.  "  Yes.  Suppose  the  cost  of  a  small  advertisement  to  be  five 
shillings,  the  usual  charge  in  the  Times  ;  if  you  have  to  pay  a  shilling  or 
eighteen  pence  duty,  that  advertisement  is  worth*  nothing  in  a  journal  with  a 
fourth  part  of  the  circulation  of  the  Times." 

CHAIRMAN.  "  Does  it  not  appear  to  you  that  the  taxes  on  the  press  are 
hostile  to  one  another ;  in  the  first  place,  lessening  the  circulation  of  papers 
by  means  of  the  stamp  duty,  we  diminish  the  consumption  of  paper,  and 
therefore  lessen  the  amount  of  paper  duty  ;  secondly,  by  diminishing  the  sale 
of  papers  through  the  stamp,  we  lessen  the  number  of  advertisements,  and 
therefore  the  receipts  of  the  advertisement  duty  1" 

Mr.  GREELEY.  "  I  should  say  that  if  the  government  were,  simply  aa  a  mat 
ter  of  revenue,  to  fix  a  duty,  say  of  half  a  penny  per  pound,  on  paper,  it  would 
be  easily  collected,  and  produce  more  money  ;  i  ud  then,  a  law  which  is  equal 


HE    THROWS    LIGHT    UPON    THE    SUBJECT.  357 

hi  its  operation  does  not  require  any  considerable  number  of  officers  to  collect 
the  duty,  and  it  would  require  no  particular  vigilance  ;  and  the  duty  on  papei 
alone  would  be  most  equal  and  most  efficient  as  a  revenue  duty." 

CHAIRMAN.  "  It  is  clear,  then,  that  the  effect  of  the  stamp  and  advertise 
ment  duty  is  to  lessen  the  amount  of  the  receipt  from  the  duty  on  paper." 

Mr.  GREELEY.  "Enormously.  I  see  that  the  circulation  of  daily  papers  in 
London  is  but  sixty  thousand,  against  a  hundred  thousand  in  New  York  ; 
while  the  tendency  is  more  to  concentrate  on  London  than  on  New  York.  Not 
a  tenth  part  of  our  daily  papers  are  printed  in  New  York." 

Mr.  COBDEN.  "  Do  you  consider,  that  there  are  upwards  of  a  million  papers 
issued  daily  from  the  press  in  the  United  States  ?" 

Mr.  GREELEY.  "  I  should  say  about  a  million  :  I  cannot  say  upwards.  I 
think  there  are  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  daily  journals  published  in  the 
United  States." 

Mr.  COBDEN.  "  At  what  amount  of  population  does  a  town  in  the  United 
States  begin  to  have  a  daily  paper  ?  They  first  of  all  begin  with  a  weekly 
paper,  do  they  not  7" 

Mr.  GREELEY.  "  Yes.  The  general  rule  is,  that  each  county  will  have  one 
weekly  newspaper.  In  all  the  Free  States,  if  a  county  have  a  population  of 
twenty  thousand,  it  has  two  papers,  one  for  each  party.  The  general  average 
in  the  agricultural  counties  is  one  local  journal  to  every  ten  thousand  inhab 
itants.  When  a  town  grows  to  have  fifteen  thousand  inhabitants  in  and  about 
it,  then  it  has  a  daily  paper  ;  but  sometimes  that  is  the  case  when  it  hag  as  few 
as  ten  thousand  :  it  depends  more  on  the  business  of  a  place  than  its  popula 
tion.  But  fifteen  thousand  may  be  stated  as  the  average  at  which  a  daily  pa 
per  commences  ;  at  twenty  thousand  they  have  two,  and  so  on.  In  central 
towns,  like  Buffalo,  Rochester,  Troy,  they  have  from  three  to  five  daily  jour 
nals,  each  of  which  prints  a  semi-weekly  or  a  weekly  journal." 

Mr.  RICH.  "  Have  your  papers  much  circulation  outside  the  towns  in  which 
they  are  published  1" 

Mr.  GREELEY.  "  The  county  is  the  genera!  limit ;  though  some  have  a 
judicial  district  of  five  or  six  counties." 

Mr.  RICH.  "  Would  the  New  York  paper,  for  instance,  have  much  circula 
tion  in  Charleston  ?" 

Mr.  GREELEY.  "  The  New  York  Herald,  I  think,  which  is  considered  the 
journal  most  friendly  to  Southern  interests,  has  a  considerable  circula 
tion  there." 

CHAIRMAN.  "  When  a  person  proposes  to  publish  a  paper  in  New  York,  he 
is  not  required  to  go  to  any  office  to  register  himself,  or  to  give  security  that 
he  will  not  insert  libels  or  seditions  matter  ?  A  newspaper  publisher  is  not 
subject  to  any  liability  more  than  other  persons  V 

Mr.  GREELEY.  "No;  no  more  than  a  man  that  starts  a  blacksmith'* 
•hop." 


358  THREE  MONTHS  IN  EUROPE. 

CHAIRMAN.  'They  do  not  presume  in  the  United  States,  that  because  a 
man  is  going  to  print  news  in  a  paper,  he  is  going  to  libel?" 

Mr.  GREELEY.  "  No  ;  nor  do  they  presume  that  his  libeling  would  be 
worth  much,  unless  he  is  a  responsible  character." 

Mr.  COBDEN.  "From  what  you  have  stated  with  regard  to  the  circulation 
of  the  daily  papers  in  New  York,  it  appears  that  a  very  large  proportion  of  the 
adult  population  must  be  customers  for  them'.?" 

Mr.  GREELEY.  "  Yes  ;  I  think  three-fourths  of  all  the  families  take  a  daily 
paper  of  some  kind." 

Mr.  COBDEN.  "  The  purchasers  of  the  daily  papers  must  consist  of  a  differ 
ent  class  from  those  in  England  ;  mechanics  must  purchase  them?" 

Mr.  GREELEY.     ''  Every  mechanic  takes  a  paper,  or  nearly  every  one." 

Mr.  COBDEN.  "  Do  those  people  generally  get  them  before  they  leave  home 
for  their  work  ?" 

Mr.  GREELEY.  "  Yes  ;  and  you  are  complained  of  if  you  do  not  furnish  a 
man  with  his  newspaper  at  his  breakfast ;  he  wants  to  read  it  between  six  or 
seven  usually." 

Mr.  COBDEN.  "  Then  a  ship-builder,  or  a  cooper,  or  a  joiner,  needs  his  daily 
paper  at  his  breakfast-time?" 

Mr.  GREELEY.  "Yes;  and  he  may  take  it  with  him  to  read  at  his  dinner, 
between  twelve  and  one ;  but  the  rule  is,  that  he  wants  his  paper  at  his  break 
fast  " 

Mr.  COBDEN.  "  After  he  has  finished  his  breakfast  or  his  dinner,  he  may 
be  found  reading  the  daily  newspaper,  just  as  the  people  of  the  upper  classes 
do  in  England  ?"  • 

Mr.  GREELEY.     "  Yes  ;  if  they  do." 

Mr.  COBDEN.     "  And  that  is  quite  common,  is  it  not?" 

Mr.  GHEELEY.  "  Almost  universal,  I  think.  There  is  a  very  low  class,  a 
good  many  foreigners,  who  do  not  know  how  to  read ;  but  no  native,  I  think." 

Mr.  EWART.     "  Do  the  agricultural  laborers  read  much  ?" 

Mr.  GHEELEY.  "  Yes ;  they  take  our  weekly  papers,  which  they  receive 
through  the  post  generally." 

Mr.  COBDEN.  "The  working  people  in  New  York  are  not  in  the  habit  of 
resorting  to  public-houses  to  read  the  newspapers,  are  they  ?" 

Mr.  GREELEY.  "  They  go  to  public-houses,  but  not  to  read  the  papers.  It 
is  not  the  general  practice  ;  but,  still,  we  have  quite  a  class  who  do  so." 

Mr.  COBDEN.  "  The  newspapers,  then,  is  not  the  attraction  to  the  public- 
house?" 

Mr.  GREELEY.  "No.  I  think  a  very  small  proportion  of  our  reading  class 
go  there  at  all ;  those  that  I  have  seen  there  are  mainly  the  foreign  popula 
tion,  those  who  do  not  read." 

CHAIRMAN.  "  Are  there  any  papers  published  in  New  York,  or  in  other 
parts,  which  may  be  said  to  be  of  an  obscene  or  immoral  character  ?" 


VINDICATES    THE   AMERICAN   PRESS.  359 

Jlr.  GREELEY.  "  We  call  the  New  York  Herald  a  very  bad  paper— those 
who  do  not  like  it ;  but  that  is  not  the  cheapest." 

CHAIRMAN.  "  Have  you  heard  of  a  paper  called  the  '  The  Town,'  publish 
ed  in  this  country,  with  pictures  of  a  certain  character  in  it  7  Have  you  any 
publications  in  the  United  States  of  that  character  1" 

Mr.  GREELEY.  "  Not  daily  papers.  There  are  weekly  papers  got  up  from 
time  to  time  called  the  '  Scorpion,'  the  '  Flash,'  and  so  on,  whose  purpose  is  to 
extort  money  from  parties  who  can  be  threatened  with  exposure  of  immora 
practices,  ur  for  visiting  infamous  houses." 

Mr.  EWART.     "  They  do  not  last,  do  they  1" 

Mr  GREELEY.  "  I  do  not  know  of  any  one  being  continued  for  any  con 
siderable  time.  If  one  dies,  another  is  got  up,  and  that  goes  down.  Our 
cheap  daily  papers,  the  very  cheapest,  are,  as  a  class,  quite  as  discreet  in  their 
conduct  and  conversation  as  other  journals.  They  do  not  embody  the  same 
amount  of  talent ;  they  devote  themselves  mainly  to  news.  They  are  not 
party  journals  ;  they  are  nominally  independent ;  they  are  not  given  to  harsh 
language  with  regard  to  public  men  :  they  are  very  moderate. 

Mr.  EWART.  "  Is  scurility  or  personality  common  in  the  publications  of 
the  United  States  7" 

Mr.  GREELEY.  "It  is  not  common;  it  is  much  less  frequent  than  it  was; 
but  it  is  not  absolutely  unknown." 

Mr.  COBDEN.     "  What  is  the  circulation  of  the  New  York  Herald 7" 

Mr.  GREELEY.     "  Twenty-five  thousand,  I  believe." 

Mr.  COBDEN.     "  Is  that  an  influential  paper  in  America  V 

Mr.  GREELEY.     "  I  think  not." 

Mr.  COBDEN.    "  It  has  a  higher  reputation  in  Europe  probably  than  at  homo.' 

Mr.  GREELEY.  "  A  certain  class  of  journals  in  this  country  find  it  their  in 
terest  or  pleasure  to  quote  it  a  good  deal." 

CHAIRMAN.  "  As  the  demand  is  extensive,  is  thn  remuneration  for  the  ser 
vices  of  the  literary  men  who  are  employed  on  the  press,  good  7" 

Mr.  GREELEY.  "  The  prices  of  literary  labor  are  more  moderate  than  in  this 
country.  The  highest  salary,  I  think,  that  would  be  commanded  by  any  one 
connected  with  the  press  would  be  five  thousand  dollars — the  highest  that 
could  be  thought  of.  I  have  not  heard  of  higher  than  three  thousand." 

Mr.  RICH.     "  What  would  be  about  the  ordinary  remuneration  1" 

Mr.  GREELEY.  "  In  our  own  concern  it  is,  besides  the  principal  editor,  from 
fifteen  hundred  dollars  down  to  five  hundred.  I  think  that  is  the  usual  range." 

CHAIRMAN.  "  Are  your  leading  men  in  America,  in  point  of  literary  abil 
ity,  employed  from  time  to  time  upon  the  press  as  an  occupation  7" 

Mr.  GREELEY.  "  It  is  beginning  to  be  so,  but  it  has  not  been  the  custom 
There  have  been  leading  men  connected  with  the  press  ;  but  the  press  has  not 
been  usually  conducted  by  the  most  powerful  men.  With  a  few  exceptions, 
the  leading  political  journals  are  conducted  ably,  and  they  are  becoming  more 


360  THREE  MONTHS  IN  EUROPE. 

so  ;  and,  with  a  wider  diffusion  of  the  circulation,  the  press  is  more  able  to  ifay 
for  it." 

Mr.  RICH.     "  Is  it  a  profession  apart  ?" 

Mr.  GREELEV.  "  No ;  usually  the  men  have  been  brought  up  to  the  bar,  to 
the  pulpit,  and  so  on  ;  they  are  literary  men." 

CHAIRMAN.  "  I  presume  that  the  non-reading  class  in  the  United  States  is 
a  very  limited  one?" 

Mr.  GREELEY.     "  Yes  ;  except  in  the  Slave  States." 

CHAIRMAN.  "  Do  not  you  consider  that  newspaper  reading  is  calculated  to 
keep  up  a  habit  of  reading?" 

Mr.  GREELEY.  "I  think  it  is  worth  all  the  schools  in  the  country.  I  think 
it  creates  a  taste  for  reading  in  every  child's  mind,  and  it  increases  his  inter 
est  in  his  lessons ;  he  is  attracted  from  always  seeing  a  newspaper  and  hear 
ing  it  read.  I  think." 

CHAIRMAN.  "  Supposing  that  you  had  your  schools  as  now,  but  that  your 
newspaper  press  were  reduced  within  the  limits  of  the  press  in  England,  do 
you  not  think  that  the  habit  of  reading  acquired  at  school  would  be  frequently 
laid  aside  ?" 

MR.  GREELEY.  "  I  think  that  the  habit  would  not  be  acquired,  and  that 
paper  reading  would  fall  into  disuse." 

Mr.  EWART.  "  Having  observed  both  countries,  can  you  state  whether  the 
press  has  greater  influence  on  public  opinion  in  the  United  States  than  in  Eng 
land,  or  the  reverse?" 

Mr.  GREELEY.  "  I  think  it  has  more  influence  with  us.  I  do  not  know  that 
any  class  is  despotically  governed  by  the  press,  but  its  influence  is  more  uni 
versal;  every  one  reads  and  talks  about  it  with  us,  and  more  weight  is  laid 
upon  intelligence  than  on  editorials ;  the  paper  which  brings  the  quickest  news 
is  the  thing  looked  to." 

Mr.  EWAHT.    "  The  leading  article  has  not  so  much  influence  as  in  England  ?" 

Mr.  GREELEY.     "  No;  the  telegraphic  dispatch  is  the  great  point." 

Mr.  COBDEN.  "  Observing  our  newspapers  and  comparing  them  with  the 
American  papers,  do  you  find  that  we  make  much  less  use  of  the  electric  tele 
graph  for  transmitting  news  than  in  America  ?" 

Mr.  GREELEY.     "  Not  a  hundredth  part  as  much- as  we  do." 

Mr.  COBDEN.  "  An  impression  prevails  in  this  country  that  our  newspaper 
press  incurs  a  great  deal  more  expense  to  expedite  new3  than  you  do  in  New 
York.  Are  you  of  that  opinion  ?" 

Mr.  GREELEY.  "  I  do  not  know  what  your  expense  is.  I  should  say  that  a 
hundred  thousand  dollars  a  year  is  paid  by  our  association  of  the  six  leading 
daily  papers,  besides  what  each  gets  separately  for  itself." 

Mr.  COBDEN.  "  Twenty  thousand  pounds  a  year  is  paid  by  your  associ 
ation,  consisting  of  six  papers,  for  what  you  get  in  common  ?" 

Mr.  GREELEY.     "  Yes ;  we  telegraph  a  great  deal  in  the  United  States.     Aa- 


THE    SIGHTS    OF   PARIS.  361 

auming  that  a  scientific  meeting  was  held  at  Cincinnati  this  yeAr,  we  should 
telegraph  the  reports  from  that  place,  and  I  presume  other  journals  would 
have  special  reporters  to  report  the  proceedings  at  length.  We  have  a  repcrt 
every  day,  fifteen  hundred  miles,  from  New  Orleans  daily ;  from  St.  Louis 
too,  and  other  places." 

"  The  Committee  then  adjourned." 

On  Saturday  morning,  the  seventh  of  June,  after  a  residence  of 
seven  busy  weeks  in  London,  our  traveler  left  that  4  magnificent 
Babel,1  for  Paris,  selecting  the  dearest  and,  of  course,  the  quickest 
route.  Dover,  quaint  and  curious  Dover,  he  thought  a  'mean  old 
town;'  and  the  steamboat  which  conveyed  him  from  Dover  to 
Calais  was  '  one  of  those  long,  black,  narrow  scow-contrivances, 
about  equal  to  a  battonwood  dug-out,  which  England  appears  to 
delight  in.'  Two  hours  of  deadly  sea-sickness,  and  he  stood  on  the 
shores  of  France.  At  Calais,  which  he  styles  'a  queer  old  town,' 
he  was  detained  a  long  hour,  obtained  an  execrable  dinner  for 
thirty-seven  and  a  half  cents,  and  changed  some  sovereigns  for 
French  money,  '  at  a  shave  which  was  not  atrocious/  Then  away 
to  Paris  by  the  swiftest  train,  arriving  at  half-past  two  on  Sunday 
morning,  four  hours  after  the  time  promised  in  the  enticing  adver 
tisement  of  the  route.  The  ordeal  of  the  custom-house  he  passed 
with  little  delay.  '*  I  did  not,"  he  says,  "  at  first  comprehend,  that 
the  number  on  my  trunk,  standing  out  fair  before  me  in  hon 
est,  unequivocal  Arabic  figures,  could  possibly  mean  anything  but 
'fifty-two;'  but  a  friend  cautioned  me  in  season  that  those  figures 
spelled  'cinquante-deux,'  or  phonetically  'sank-on-du'  to  the  officer, 
and  I  made  my  first  attempt  at  mouthing  French  accordingly,  and 
succeeded  in  making  myself  intelligible." 

About  daylight  on  Sunday  morning,  he  reached  the  Hotel  Choi- 
seuL,  Rue  St.  Honoro,  where  he  found  shelter,  but  not  bed.  After 
breakfast,  however,  he  sallied  forth  and  saw  his  first  sight  in  Paris, 
high  mass  at  the  Church  of  the  Madeleine;  which  he  thought  a 
gorgeous,  bat  *  inexplicable  dumb  show.' 

Eight  days  were  all  that  the  indefatigable  man  could  afford  to  a 
stay  in  the  gay  capital ;  but  he  improved  the  time.  The  obelisk  of 
Luxor,  brought  from  the  banks  of  the  Nile,  and  covered  with  mys 
terious  inscriptions,  that  had  braved  the  winds  and  rains  of  four 
thousand  years,  impressed  him  more  deeply  than  any  object  he  had 

16 


3G2  THREE  MONTHS  IN  EUROPE. 

seen  in  Europe.  The  Tuileries  were  to  his  eye  only  an  irregular 
mass  of  buildings  with  little  architectural  beauty,  and  remarkable 
chiefly  for  their  magnitude.  At  the  French  Opera,  he  saw  the 
musical  spectacle  of  Azael  the  Prodigal,  or  rather,  three  acts  of  it ; 
for  his  patience  gave  way  at  the  end  of  the  third  act.  "Such  a 
medley  of  drinking,  praying,  dancing,  idol-worship,  and  Delilah- 
craft  he  had  never  before  encountered."  To  comprehend  an  Eng 
lishman,  he  says,  follow  him  to  the  fireside  ;  a  Frenchman,  join  him 
at  the  opera,  and  contemplate  him  during  the  performance  of  the  bal 
let,  of  which  France  is  the  cradle  and  the  home.  u  Though  no  prac 
titioner,'1''  he  adds,  u  I  am  yet  a  lover  of  the  dance;"  but  the  attitudes 
and  contortions  of  the  ballet  are  disagreeable  and  tasteless,  and 
the  tendency  of  such  a  performance  as  he  that  night  beheld^  was 
earthy,  sensual,  devilish.  Notre  Dame  he  thought  not  only  the 
finest  church,  but  the  most  imposing  edifice  in  Paris,  infinitely  supe 
rior,  as  a  place  of  worship,  to  the  damp,  gloomy,  dungeon-like 
"Westminster  Abbey.  The  Hotel  de  Ville,  like  the  New  York  City 
Hall, l  lacks  another  story.'  In  the  Palace  of  Versailles,  he  saw  fresh 
proofs  of  the  selfishness  of  king-craft,  the  long-suffering  patience 
ol  nations,  and  the  necessary  servility  of  Art  when  patronized  by 
royalty.  He  wandered  for  hours  through  its  innumerable  halls, 
encrusted  with  splendor,  till  the  intervention  of  a  naked  ante-room 
was  a  relief  to  the  eye;  and  the  ruling  idea  in  picture  and  statue 
and  carving  was  military  glory.  "  Carriages  shattered  and  overturn 
ed,  animals  transfixed  by  spear-thrusts  and  writhing  in  speechless 
agony,  men  riddled  by  cannon-shot  or  pierced  by  musket-balls,  and 
ghastly  with  coming  death ;  such  are  the  spectacles  which  the 
more  favored  and  fortunate  of  the  Gallic  youth  have  been  called 
for  generations  to  admire  and  enjoy.  The  whole  collection  is,  in 
its  general  effect,  delusive  and  mischievous,  the  purpose  being  to 
exhibit  War  as  always  glorious,  and  France  as  uniformly  triumph 
ant.  It  is  by  means  like  these  that  the  business  of  shattering  knee- 
joints  and  multiplying  orphans  is  kept  in  countenance." 

At  the  Louvre,  however,  the  traveler  spent  the  greater  part  of 
two  days  in  rapturous  contemplation  of  its  wonderful  collection  of 
paintings.  Two  days  out  of  eight  -the  fact  is  significant. 

Let  no  man  who  has  spent  but  three  days  in  a  foreign  country, 
venture  on  prophecy  with  regard  to  its  future.  France,  at  the  time 


HIS    OPINION    OF    THE    FRENCH.  363 

of  Horace  Greeley's  brief  visit,  went  by  the  name  of  Republic,  and 
Louis  Napoleon  was  called  President.  For  a  sturdy  republican 
like  Mr.  Greeley,  it  was  but  natural  that  one  of  his  first  inquiries 
should  be,  '  Will  the  Republic  stand  ?'  It  is  amusing,  now,  to  read 
in  a  letter  of  his,  written  on  the  third  day  of  his  residence  in  Paris, 
the  most  confident  predictions  of  its  stability.  "  Alike,"  he  says, 
"  by  its  own  strength  and  by  its  enemies'  divisions,  the  safety  of  the 
Republic  is  assured ;"  and  again,  "Time  is  on  the  popular  side,  and 
every  hour's  endurance  adds  strength  to  the  Republic."  And  yet 
again,  "An  open  attack  by  the  Autocrat  would  certainly  consolidate 
it ;  a  prolongation  of  Louis  Napoleon's  power  (no  longer  probable) 
would  have  the  same  effect."  "No  longer  probable."  The  striking 
events  of  history  have  seldom  seemed  4  probable '  a  year  before  they 
occurred. 

Other  impressions  made  upon  the  mind  of  the  traveler  were 
more  correct.  France,  which  the  English  press  was  daily  repre 
senting  as  a  nation  inhabited  equally  by  felons,  bankrupts,  paupers 
and  lunatics,  he  found  as  tranquil  and  prosperous  as  England  her 
self.  He  saw  there  less  plate  upon  the  sideboards  of  her  landlords 
and  bankers,  but  he  observed  evidences  on  all  hands  of  general 
though  unostentatious  thrift.  The  French  he  thought  intelligent, 
vivacious,  courteous,  obliging,  generous  and  humane,  eager  to  en 
joy,  but  willing  that  all  the  world  should  enjoy  with  them ;  but  at 
the  same  time,  they  are  impulsive,  fickle,  sensual  and  irreverent. 
Paris,  the  l  paradise  of  the  senses,'  contained  tens  of  thousands  who 
could  die  fighting  for  liberty,  but  no  class  who  could  even  compre 
hend  the  idea  of  the  temperance  pledge  I !  The  poor  of  Paris 
seemed  to  suffer  less  than  the  poor  of  London ;  but  in  London  there 
were  ten  philanthropic  enterprises  for  one  in  Paris.  In  Paris  he 
saw  none  of  that  abject  servility  in  the  bearing  of  the  poor  to  the 
rich  which  had  excited  his  disgust  and  commiseration  in  London. 
A  hundred  princes  and  dukes  attract  less  attention  in  Paris  than 
one  in  London ;  for  '  Democracy  triumphed  in  the  drawing-rooms 
of  Paris  before  it  had  erected  its  first  barricade  in  the  streets ;'  and 
once  more  the  traveler  "  marvels  at  the  obliquity  of  vision,  where 
by  any  one  is  enabled,  standing  in  this  metropolis,  to  anticipate  the 
subversion  of  the  Republic."  "And  if,"  he  adds,  "passing  over 
the  mob  of  generals  and  politicians-by-trade,  the  choice  of  candi- 


364  THREE  MONTHS  IN  EUROPE. 

dates  for  the  next  presidential  terra  should  fall  on  some  modest  and 
unambitious  citizen,  who  has  earned  a  character  by  quiet  probity 
and  his  bread  by  honest  labor,  I  shall  hope  to  see  his  name  at  tho 
head  of  the  poll  in  spite  of  the  unconstitutional  overthrow  of  Uni 
versal  Suffrage."  Thus  he  thought  that  France,  fickle,  glory-loving 
France,  would  do  in  1852,  what  he  only  hoped  America  would  be 
capable  of  some  time  before  the  year  1900 ;  that  is,  '  elect  something 
else  than  (jenerals  to  the  presidency.' 

Away  to  Lyons  on  the  sixteenth  of  June.  To  an  impetuous  trav 
eler  like  Horace  Greeley,  the  tedious  formalities  of  the  European 
railroads  were  sufficiently  irritating  ;  but  the  "  passport  nuisance  " 
was  disgusting  almost  beyond  endurance.  One  of  the  very  few 
anecdotes  which  he  found  time  to  tell  in  his  letters  to  the  Tribune, 
occurs  in  connection  with  his  remarks  upon  this  subject.  "  Every 
one  in  Paris  who  lodges  a  stranger  must  see  forthwith  that  he  has 
a  passport  in  good  condition,  in  default  of  which  said  host  is  liable 
to  a  penalty.  Now,  two  Americans,  when  applied  to,  produced 
passports  in  due  form,  but  the  professions  set  forth  therein  were  not 
transparent  to  the  landlord's  apprehension.  One  of  them  was  duly 
designated  in  his  passport  as  a  *  loafer]  the  other  as  a  4  rowdy  J  and 
they  informed  him,  on  application,  that  though  these  professions 
were  highly  popular  in  America  and  extensively  followed,  they 
knew  no  French  synonyms  into  which  they  could  be  translated.  The 
landlord,  not  content  with  the  sign  manual  of  Daniel  Webster,  affirm 
ing  that  all  was  right,  applied  to  an  American  friend  for  a  translation 
01  the  inexplicable  professions,  but  I  am  not  sure  that  he  has  even 
.yet  been  fully  enlightened  with  regard  to  them."  lie  thought  that 
three  days'  endurance  of  the  passport  system  as  it  exists  on  the  con 
tinent  of  Europe  would  send  any  American  citizen  home  with  his 
love  of  liberty  and  country  kindled  to  a  blaze  of  enthusiasm. 

On  the  long  railroad  ride  to  Lyons,  the  traveler  was  half  stifled 
with  the  tobacco  smoke  in  the  cars.  His  companions  were  all 
Frenchmen  and  all  smokers,  who  "  kept  puff-puffing,  through  the 
day ;  first  all  of  them,  then  three,  two,  and  at  all  events  one,  till 
they  all  got  out  at  Dijon  near  nightfall;  when,  before  I  had  time 
to  congratulate  myself  on  the  atmospheric  improvement,  another 
Frenchman  got  in,  lit  his  cigar,  and  went  at  it.  All  this  was  in 
direct  and  flagrant  violation  of  the  rules  posted  up  in  the  car$ 


JOURNEY    TO    ITALY.  865 

but  when  did  a  smoker  3ver  care  for  law  or  decency  ?"  However 
he  flattened  his  nose  diligently  against  the  car  windows,  and  spied 
what  he  could  of  the  crops,  the  culture,  the  houses  and  the  people 
of  the  country.  He  discovered  that  a  Yankee  could  mow  twice 
as  much  grass  in  a  day  as  a  Frenchman,  but  not  get  as  much  from 
each  acre ;  thatt  the  women  did  more  than  half  the  work  c  f  the 
farms ;  that  the  agricultural  implements  were  primitive  and  rude, 
the  hay-carts  "  wretchedly  small ;"  that  the  farm-houses  were  low 
small,  steep-roofed,  huddled  together,  and  not  worth  a  hundred  dol 
lars  each ;  that  fruit-trees  were  deplorably  scarce ;  and  that  the 
fitalls  and  stables  for  the  cattle  were  *  visible  only  to  the  eye  of 
faith.'  He  reached  Chalons  on  the  Saone,  at  nine  in  the  evening ; 
and  Lyons  per  steamboat  in  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day.  Lyons, 
the  capital  of  the  silk-trade,  furnished  him,  as  might  have  been  an 
ticipated,  with  an  excellent  text  for  a  letter  on  Protection,  in  which 
he  endeavored  to  prove  that  it  is  not  best  for  mankind  that  one 
hundred  thousand  silk-workers  should  be  clustered  on  any  square 
mile  or  two  of  earth. 

The  traveler's  next  ride  was  across  the  Alps  to  Turin.  The  let 
ter  which  describes  it  contains,  besides  the  usual  remarks  upon 
wheat,  grass,  fruit-trees  and  bad  farming,  one  slight  addition  to  our 
stock  of  personal  anecdotes.  The  diligence  had  stopped  at  Cham- 
bery,  the  capital  of  Savoy,  for  breakfast. 

"  There  was  enough,"  he  writes,  "  and  good  enough  to  eat,  wine  in  abun 
dance  without  charge,  but  tea,  coffee,  or  chocolate,  must  be  ordered  and  paid 
for  extra.  Yet  I  was  unable  to  obtain  a  cup  of  chocolate,  the  excuse  being 
that  there  was  not  time  to  make  it.  I  did  not  understand,  therefore,  why  I 
was  charged  more  than  others  for  breakfast;  but  to  talk  English  against 
French  or  Italian  is  to  get  a  mile  behind  in  no  time,  so  I  pocketed  the  change 
offered  me  and  came  away.  On  the  coach,  however,  with  an  Englishman  near 
me  who  had  traveled  this  way  before  and  spoke  French  and  Italian,  I  ven 
tured  to  expose  my  ignorance  as  follows  : 

"  '  Neighbor,  why  was  I  charged  three  francs  for  breakfast,  and  the  rest  of 
yo-i  but  two  and  a  half  V 

'  '  Don't  know — perhaps  you  had  tea  or  coffee.' 

" '  No,  sir— don't  drink  either.' 

"  '  Then  perhaps  you  washed  your  face  and  hands.' 

"  '  Well,  it  would  be  just  like  me.' 

"  *  0,  then,  that 's  it !     The  half  franc  was  for  the  basin  and  towel.' 

"  '  Ah  oui,  out.'     So  the  milk  in  that  cocoanut  was  accounted  for." 


366  THREE  MONTHS  IN  EUROPE. 

Anecdotes  are  precious  for  biographical  purposes.  This  is  a 
little  story,  but  the  reader  may  infer  from  it  something  respecting 
Horace  Greeley's  manners,  habits,  and  character.  The  morn 
ing  of  June  the  twentieth  found  the  diligence  rumbling  over 
the  beautiful  plain  of  Piedmont  towards  Turin.  Horace  Greeley 
was  in  Italy.  One  of  the  first  observations  which  he  made  in  that 
enchanting  country  was,  that  he  had  never  seen  a  region  where  a 
few  sub-soil  plows,  with  men  qualified  to  use  and  explain  them,  were 
so  much  wanted  !  Refreshing  remark !  The  sky  of  Italy  had  been 
overdone.  At  length,  a  traveler  crossed  the  Alps  who  had  an  eye 
for  the  necessities  of  the  soil. 

Mr.  Greeley  spent  twenty-one  days  in  Italy,  paying  flying  visits 
to  Turin,  Genoa,  Pisa,  Florence,  Padua,  Bologna,  Venice,  Milan,  and 
passing  about  a  week  in  Rome.  At  Genoa,  he  remarked  that  the 
kingdom  of  Sardinia,  which  contains  a  population  of  only  four  mill 
ions,  maintains  sixty  thousand  priests,  but  not  five  thousand  teach 
ers  of  elementary  knowledge  ;  and  that,  while  the  churches  of  Ge 
noa  are  worth  four  millions  of  dollars,  the  school-houses  would  not 
bring  fifty  thousand.  "  The  black-coated  gentry  fairly  overshadow 
the  land  with  their  shovel-hats,  so  that  corn  has  no  ohance  of  sun 
shine."  Pisa,  too,  could  afford  to  spend  a  hundred  thousand  dol 
lars  in  fireworks  to  celebrate  the  anniversary  of  its  patron  saint ; 
but  can  spare  nothing  for  popular  education.  At  Florence,  the  trav- 
veler  passed  some  agreeable  hours  with  Hiram  Powers,  felt  that  his 
Greek  Slave  and  Fisher  Boy  were  not  the  loftiest  achievements  of 
that  artist,  defied  antiquity  to  surpass  his  Proserpine  and  Psyche, 
and  predicted  that  Powers,  unlike  Alexander,  has  realms  still  to 
conquer,  and  will  fulfill  his  destiny.  At  Bologna  the  most  notable 
thing  he  saw  was  an  awning  spread  over  the  center  of  the  main 
street  for  a  distance  of  half  a  mile,  and  he  thought  the  idea  might 
be  worth  borrowing.  On  entering  Venice  his  carpet-bags  were 
searched  for  tobacco ;  and  he  remarks,  that  when  any  tide-waiter 
finds  more  of  that  noxious  weed  about  him  than  the  chronic  ill- 
breeding  of  smokers  compels  him  to  carry  in  his  clothes,  he  is  wel 
come  to  confiscate  all  his  worldly  possessions.  Before  reaching 
Venice,  another  diligence-incident  occurred,  which  the  traveler  may 
be  permitted  himself  to  relate 


A    NAP    IN   THE    DILIGENCE.  307 

"  As  midnight  drew  on,"  he  writes,  "  I  grew  weary  of  gazing  at  the  same 
endless  diversity  of  grain-fields,  vineyards,  rows  of  trees,  <fcc.,  though  the 
bright  moon  was  now  shining ;  and,  shutting  out  the  chill  night-nii,  I  disposed 
myself  on  my  old  great-coat  and  softest  carpet-bag  for  a  drowse,  having  ample 
room  at  iny  command  if  I  could  but  have  brought  it  into  a  straight  line.  But 
the  road  was  hard,  the  coach  a  little  the  uneasiest  I  ever  hardened  my  bones 
upon,  and  my  slumber  was  of  a  disturbed  and  dubious  character,  a  dim  sense 
of  physical  discomfort  shaping  and  coloring  my  incoherent  and  fitful  visions. 
For  a  time  I  fancied  myself  held  down  on  my  back  while  some  malevolent 
wretch  drenched  the  floor  (and  me)  with  filthy  water ;  then  I  was  in  a  rude 
scuffle,  and  came  out  third  or  fourth  best,  with  my  clothes  badly  torn  ;  anon  I 
had  lost  my  hat  in  a  strange  place,  and  could  not  begin  to  find  it ;  and  at  last 
my  clothes  were  full  of  grasshoppers  and  spiders,  who  were  beguiling  their 
leisure  by  biting  and  stinging  me.  The  misery  at  last  became  unbearable  and 
I  awoke.  But  where  1  I  was  plainly  in  a  tight,  dark  box  that  needed  more 
air ;  I  soon  recollected  that  it  was  a  stage-coach,  wherein  I  had  been  making 
my  way  from  Ferrara  to  Padua.  I  threw  open  the  door  and  looked  out. 
Horses,  postilions,  and  guard  were  all  gone  ;  the  moon,  the  fields,  the  road 
were  gone  :  I  was  in  a  close  court-yard,  alone  with  Night  and  Silence ;  but 
where  ?  A  church  clock  struck  three  ;  but  it  was  only  promised  that  we 
should  reach  Padua  by  four,  and  I,  making  the  usual  discount  on  such  prom 
ises,  had  set  down  five  as  the  probable  hour  of  our  arrival.  I  got  out  to  take 
a  more  deliberate  survey,  and  the  tall  form  and  bright  bayonet  of  an  Austrian 
sentinel,  standing  guard  over  the  egress  of  the  court-yard,  were  before  me. 
To  talk  German  was  beyond  the  sweep  of  my  dizziest  ambition,  but  an  Italian 
runner  or  porter  instantly  presented  himself.  From  him  I  made  out  that  I 
was  in  Padua  of  ancient  and  learned  renown  (Italian  Padova),  and  that  the 
first  train  for  Venice  would  not  start  for  three  hours  yet.  I  followed  him  into 
a  convenient  cafe,  which  was  all  open  and  well  lighted,  where  I  ordered  a  cup 
of  chocolate,  and  proceeded  leisurely  to  discuss  it.  When  I  had  finished,  the 
other  guests  had  all  gone  out,  but  daylight  was  coming  in,  and  I  began  to  feel 
more  at  home.  The  cafe  tender  was  asleep  in  his  chair  ;  the  porter  had  gone 
off ;  the  sentinel  alone  kept  awake  on  his  post.  Soon  the  welcome  face  of  the 
coach-guard,  whom  I  had  borne  company  from  Bologna,  appeared ;  I  hailed 
him,  obtained  my  baggage,  hired  a  porter,  and,  having  nothing  more  to  wait 
for,  started  at  a  little  past  four  for  the  Railroad  station,  nearly  a  mile  dis 
tant  ;  taking  observations  as  I  went.  Arrived  at  the  depot,  I  discharged  my 
porter,  sat  down  and  waited  for  the  place  to  open,  with  ample  leisure  for  re 
flection.  At  six  o'clock  I  felt  once  more  the  welcome  motion  of  a  railroad  car, 
and  at  eight  was  in  Venice." 

At  Venice,  amid  a  thousand  signs  of  decay,  he  saw  one,  and  only 
OPS,  indication  of  progress.  It  was  a  gondola  with  the  word  OM- 


368  THREE   MONTHS   IN   EUROPE. 

VIBUS  written  npon  it ;  and  the  omnibus,  he  rem.irks,  typifies  ASSO 
CIATION,  the  simple  but  grandly  fruitful  idea  which  is  destined  to 
renovate  the  world  of  industry  and  production,  substituting  abun 
dance  and  comfort  for  penury  and  misery.  For  Man,  he  thought, 
this  quickening  word  is  yet  seasonable  ;  for  Venice,  it  is  too  late. 

Rome  our  hurrying  traveler  reached  through  much  tribulation 
Even  his  patience  gave  way  when  the  petty  and  numberless  ex 
actions  of  passport  officials,  hotel  runners,  postilions,  and  porters, 
had  wrung  the  last  copper  from  his  pocket.  After  he  and  his  fel 
low-passengers  had  paid  every  conceivable  demand,  when  they 
supposed  they  had  bought  off  every  enemy,  and  had  nothing  to  do 
but  drive  quietly  into  the  city,  "our  postilion,"  says  the  indignant 
traveler,  "  came  down  upon  us  for  more  money  for  taking  us  to  a 
hotel ;  and  as  we  could  do  no  better,  we  agreed  to  give  him  four 
francs  to  set  down  four  of  us  (all  the  Americans  and  English  he 
had)  at  one  hotel.  He  drove  by  the  Diligence  Office,  however,  and 
there  three  or  four  rough  customers  jumped  unbidden  on  the  ve 
hicle,  and,  when  we  reached  our  hotel,  made  themselves  busy  with 
our  little  luggage,  which  we  would  have  thanked  them  to  let  alone. 
Having  obtained  it,  we  settled  with  the  postilion,  who  grumbled 
and  scolded,  though  we  paid  him  more  than  his  four  francs.  Then 
came  the  leader  of  our  volunteer  aids,  to  be  paid  for  taking  down 
the  luggage.  I  had  not  a  penny  of  change  left,  but  others  of  our 
company  scraped  their  pockets  of  a  handful  of  coppers,  which  the 
'•faccJiinV  rejected  with  scorn,  throwing  them  after  us  up  stairs  (I 
hope  they  did  not  pick  them  up  afterwards),  and  I  heard  their  im 
precations  until  I  had  reached  my  room,  but  a  blessed  ignorance  of 
Italian  shielded  me  from  any  insult  in  the  premises.  Soon  my  two 
light  carpet-bags,  which  I  was  not  allowed  to  carry,  came  up  with 
a  fresh  demand  for  porterage.  '  Don't  you  belong  to  the  hotel  ?' 
'Yes.'  4Then  vanish  instantly!'  I  shut  the  door  in  his  face, 
and  let  him  growl  to  his  heart's  content ;  and  thus  closed  my  first 
day  in  the  more  especial  dominions  of  His  Holiness  Pius  IX." 

But  he  was  in  Rome,  and  Rome  impressed  him  deeply  ;  for,  in 
the  nature  of  Horace  Greeley,  the  poetical  element  exists  as  un 
deniably  as  the  practical.  He  has  an  eye  for  a  picture  and  a  pros 
pect,  as  well  as  for  a  potato-field  and  a  sub-soil  plough. 

The  greater  part  of  his  week  in  Rome  ivas  spent  in  the  galleries 


SCENE    IN    THE    COLISEUM.  369 

of  art ;  and  while  feasting  his  eyes  with  their  manift  Id  glories_ 
practical  suggestions  for  the  diffusion  of  all  that  wealth  of  beauty 
occur  to  his  mind.  It  is  well,  he  thought,  that  there  should  be 
somewhere  in  the  world  an  Emporium  of  the  Fine  Arts;  but  not 
well  that  the  heart  should  absorb  all  the  blood  and  leave  the  limbs 
destitute ;  and,  "  if  Rome  would  but  consider  herself  under  a  mora 
responsibility  to  impart  as  well  as  receive,  and  would  liberally  dis 
pose  of  so  many  of  her  master-pieces  as  would  not  at  all  impover 
ish  her,  buying  in  return  such  as  could  be  spared  her  from  abroad, 
and  would  thus  enrich  her  collections  by  diversifying  them,  she 
would  render  the  cause  of  Art  a  signal  service,  and  earn  the  grati 
tude  of  mankind,  without  the  least  prejudice  to  her  own  permanent 
well-being." 

Among  the  Sights  of  Rome,  the  Coliseum  seems  to  have  made 
the  most  lasting  impression  upon  the  mind  of  the  traveler.  He  was 
fortunate  in  the  hour  of  his  visit.  As  he  slowly  made  the  circuit 
of  the  gigantic  ruin,  a  body  of  French  cavalry  were  exercising  their 
horses  along  the  eastern  side,  while  in  a  neighboring  grove  the 
rattle  of  the  kettle-drum  revealed  the  presence  of  infantry.  At 
length  the  horsemen  rode  slowly  away,  and  the  attention  of  the 
visitors  was  attracted  to  some  groups  of  Italians  in  the  interior,  who 
were  slowly  marching  and  chanting. 

"  We  entered,"  says  Mr.  Greeley,  "  and  were  witnesses  of  a  strange,  im 
pressive  ceremony.  It  is  among  the  traditions  of  Rome  that  a  great  number 
of  the  early  Christians  were  compelled  by  their  heathen  persecutors  to  fight 
and  die  here  as  gladiators,  as  a  punishment  for  their  contumacious,  treasonable 
resistance  to  the  '  lower  law'  then  in  the  ascendant,  which  the  high  priests  and 
circuit  judges  of  that  day  were  wont  in  their  sermons  and  charges  to  demon 
strate  that  every  one  was  bound  as  a  law-abiding  citizen  to  obey,  no  matter 
what  might  be  his  private,  personal  convictions  with  regard  to  it.  Since  the 
Coliseum  has  been  cleared  of  rubbish,  fourteen  little  oratories  or  places  of 
prayer  have  been  cheaply  constructed  around  its  inner  circumference,  and 
hero  at  certain  seasons  prayers  are  offered  for  the  eternal  bliss  of  the  martyr 
ed  Christians  of  the  Coliseum.  These  prayers  were  being  offered  on  this  oc 
casion.  Twenty  or  thirty  men  (priests  or  monks  I  inferred),  partly  bare 
headed,  but  as  many  with  their  heads  completely  covered  by  hooded  cloaks, 
which  left  only  two  small  holes  for  the  eyes,  accompanied  by  a  large  number 
of  women,  marched  slowly  and  sadly  to  one  oratory;  chanting  a  prayer  by  the 
way,  setting  up  their  lighted  tapers  by  its  semblance  of  an  altar,  kneeling  and 

16* 


370  THREE  MONTHS  IN  EUROPE. 

praying  for  some  minutes,  then  rising  and  proceeding  to  the  next  oratory,  and 
80  on  until  they  had  repeated  the  service  before  every  one.  They  all  seemed 
to  be  of  the  poorer  class,  and  I  presume  the  ceremony  is  often  repeated  or  the 
participators  would  have  been  much  more  numerous.  The  praying  was  fer 
vent  and  I  trust  excellent, — as  the  music  decidedly  was  not ;  but  the  whole 
scene,  with  the  setting  sun  shining  redly  through  the  shattered  arches  and 
upon  the  ruined  wall,  with  a  few  French  soldiers  standing  heedlessly  by, 
was  strangely  picturesque,  and  to  ine  affecting.  I  came  away  before  it  con 
cluded,  to  avoid  the  damp  night-air ;  but  many  checkered  years  and  scenes 
of  stirring  interest  must  intervene  to  efface  from  my  memory  that  sun-set  and 
those  strange  prayers  in  the  Coliseum." 

St.  Peter's,  he  styles  the  Niagara  of  edifices;  and,  like  Niagara, 
the  first  view  of  it  is  disappointing.  In  the  Sistine  chapel,  he  ob 
served  a  picture  of  the  Death  of  Admiral  Coligny  at  the  Massacre  of 
St.  Bartholomew,  and  if  the  placing  of  that  picture  there  was  not 
intended  to  express  approbation  of  the  Massacre,  he  wanted  to  know 
what  it  was  intended  to  express. 

The  tenth  of  July  was  the  traveler's  last  day  in  Italy.  A  swift 
journey  through  Switzerland,  Germany,  Belgium,  and  North  East 
ern  France  brought  him  once  more  to  England.  In  Switzerland, 
he  saw  everywhere  the  signs  of  frugal  thrift  and  homely  content. 
He  was  assailed  by  no  beggar,  cheated  by  no  official ;  though,  as  lie 
truly  remarks,  he  was  '  very  palpably  a  stranger.'  A  more  '  upright, 
kindly,  truly  religious  people '  than  the  Catholic  Swiss,  he  had  never 
seen  ;  and  he  thought  their  superiority  to  the  Italians  attributable 
to  their  republican  institutions ! !  He  liked  the  Germans.  Their 
good  humor,  their  kind-heartedness,  their  deference  to  each  other's 
wishes,  their  quiet,  unostentatious  manner,  their  self-respect,  won 
his  particular  regard.  In  the  main  cabins  of  German  steamboats, 
he  was  gratified  to  see  "  well-dressed  young  ladies  take  out  their 
home-prepared  dinner  and  eat  it  at  their  own  good  time  without 
seeking  the  company  and  countenance  of  others,  or  troubling  them 
selves  to  see  who  was  observing.  A  Lowell  factory  girl  would  con 
sider  this  entirely  out  of  character,  and  a  New  York  milliner  would 
be  shocked  at  the  idea  of  it." 

Nowhere,  he  here  remarks,  had  he  found  Aristocracy  a  chronic 
disease,  except  in  England. 

"Your  Paris  boot-black  will  make  }TOU  a  low  bow  in  acknowl 
edgment  of  a  franc,  but  he  has  not  a  trace  of  the  abjectness  of  a 


TO    ENGLAND    AGAIN.  371 

London  waiter,  and  would  evidently  decline  the  honor  of  being 
kicked  by  a  Duke.  In  Italy,  there  is  little  manhood  but  no  class- 
worship  ;  her  millions  of  beggars  will  not  abase  themselves  one 
whit  lower  before  a  Prince  than  before  any  one  else  from  whom 
they  hope  to  worm  a  copper.  The  Swiss  are  freemen,  and  wear  the 
fact  unconsciously  but  palpably  on  their  brows  and  beaming  frojn 
their  eyes.  The  Germans  submit  passively  to  arbitrary  power 
which  they  see  not  how  successfully  to  resist,  but  they  render  to 
rank  or  dignity  no  more  homage  than  is  necessary — their  souls  are 
still  free,  and  their  manners  evince  a  simplicity  and  frankness  which 
might  shame,  or  at  least  instruct  America." 

On  the  twenty-first  of  July,  Horace  Greeley  was  again  in  Lon 
don.  One  incident  of  his  journey  from  the  court  to  the  metropolis 
was  sufficiently  ludicrous.  There  were  three  Frenchmen  and  two 
French  women  in  the  car,  going  up  to  see  the  Exhibition.  u  London 
Stout,"*  displayed  in  tall  letters  across  the  front  of  a  tavern,  attract 
ed  the  attention  of  the  party.  '  Btoot  f  Stoot  P  queried  one  of 
them ;  but  the  rest  were  as  much  in  the  dark  as  he,  and  the  Amer 
ican  was  as  deficient  in  French  as  they  in  English.  The  befogged 
one  pulled  out  his  dictionary  and  read  Over  and  over  all  the  French 
synonyms  of  '  Stout,'  but  this  only  increased  his  perplexity.  '  Stout ' 
signified  'robust,'  'hearty,1  'vigorous,'  'resolute,'  &c.,  but  what 
then  could  ' London  Stout'  be?  He  closed  his  book  at  length  in 
despair  and  resumed  his  observations." 

The  remaining  sixteen  days  of  Mr.  Greeley's  three  months  in  Eu 
rope  were  busy  ones  indeed.  The  great  Peace  Convention  was  in 
session  in  London ;  but,  as  he  was  not  a  delegate,  lie  took  no  part 
in  its  proceedings.  If  he  had  been  a  delegate,  he  tells  us,  that  he 
should  have  offered  a  resolution  which  would  have  affirmed,  not 
denied,  the  right  of  a  nation,  wantonly  invaded  by  a  foreign  army 
or  intolerably  oppressed  by  its  own  rulers,  to  resist  force  by  force; 
a  proposition  which  he  thought  might  perhaps  have  marred  the 
'  harmony  and  happiness '  of  the  Convention. 

A  few  days  after  his  return  to  London,  he  had  the  very  great 
gratification  of  witnessing  the  triumph  of  M'Cormick's  Reaping  Ma 
chine,  which,  as  it  stood  in  the  Crystal  Palace,  had  excited  general 
derision,  and  been  styled  '  a  cross  between  an  Astley  chariot,  a  fly 
ing  machine,  and  a  tread-mill.'  It  came  into  the  field,  therefore,  to 


372  THREE  MONTHS  IN  EUROPE. 

confront  a  tribunal  prepared  for  its  condemnation.  "Before  it 
stood  John  Bull,  burly,  dogged,  and  determined  not  to  be  humbug 
ged — his  judgment  made  up  and  his  sentence  ready  to  be  recorded, 
Nothing  disconcerted,  the  brown,  rough,  homespun  Yankee  in 
charge  jumped  on  the  box,  starting  the  team  at  a  smart  walk,  set 
ting  the  blades  of  the  machine  in  lively  operation,  and  commenced 
raking  off  the  grain  in  sheaf-piles  ready  for  binding, — cutting  a 
breadth  of  nine  or  ten  feet  cleanly  and  carefully  as  fast  as  a  span 
of  horses  could  comfortably  step.  There  was  a  moment,  and  but  a 
moment  of  suspense;  human  prejudice  could  hold  out  no  longer; 
and  burst  after  burst  of  involuntary  cheers  from  the  whole  crowd 
proclaimed  the  triumph  of  the  Yankee  *  treadmill.' " 

A  rapid  tour  through  the  north  of  England,  Scotland,  and  Ire 
land  absorbed  the  last  week  of  Mr.  Greeley's  stay  in  Europe.  The 
grand  old  town  of  Edinburgh  '  surpassed  his  expectations,'  and  he 
was  amused  at  the  passion  of  the  Edinburghers  for  erecting  public 
monuments  to  eminent  men.  Glasgow  looked  to  him  more  like  an 
American  city  than  any  other  he  had  seen  in  Europe ;  it  was  half 
Pittsburgh,  half  Philadelphia.  Ireland  seemed  more  desolate,  more 
wretched,  even  in  its  best  parts,  than  he  had  expected  to  find  it. 
As  an  additional  proof  of  his  instinctive  sense  of  means  and  ends, 
take  this  suggestion  for  Ireland's  deliverance  from  the  pajl  of  igno 
rance  that  overspreads  it : — "  Let  the  Catholic  Bishops  unite  in  an 
earnest  and  potential  call  for  teachers,  and  they  can  summon  thou 
sands  and  tens  of  thousands  of  capable  and  qualified  persons  from 
convents,  from  seminaries,  from  cloisters,  from  drawing-rooms,  even 
from  foreign  lands  if  need  be,  to  devote  their  time  and  efforts  to  the 
work  without  earthly  recompense  or  any  stipulation  save  for  a  bare 
subsistence,  which  the  less  needy  Catholics,  or  even  the  more  liberal 
Protestants,  in  every  parish,  would  gladly  proffer  them." 

Perfectly  practicable — perfectly  impossible!  The  following  is  the 
only  incident  of  his  Irish  tour  that  space  can  be  found  for  here  : — 
"  Walking  with  a  friend  through  one  of  the  back  streets  of  Galway 
beside  the  outlet  of  the  Lakes,  I  came  where  a  girl  of  ten  years  old 
was  breaking  up  hard  brook  pebbles  into  suitable  fragments  to  mend 
roads  with.  We  halted,  and  M.  asked  her  how  much  she  received 
for  that  labor.  She  answered,  '  Sixpence  a  car-load.'  *  How  long 
will  it  take  you  to  break  a  car-load  ?'  *  About  a  fortnight.' " 


HIS    OPINION    OF   THE    ENGLISH.  373 

He  concluded  his  brief  sketch  of  this  country  with  the  words, 
"  Alas  !  unhappy  Ireland."  Yet,  on  a  calmer  and  fuller  survey  of 
Ireland's  case,  and  after  an  enumeration  of  the  various  measures  for 
her  relief  and  regeneration  which  were  slowly  but  surely  operating, 
he  exclaims,  "  There  shall  yet  be  an  Ireland  to  which  her  sons  in 
distant  lands  may  turn  their  eyes  with  a  pride  unmingled  with  sad 
ness  ;  but  who  can  say  how  soon !" 

Mr.  Greeley,  though  he  did  not  '  wholly  like  those  grave  and 
stately  English,'  appreciated  highly  and  commends  frankly  their 
many  good  qualities.  He  praised  their  industry,  their  method,  their 
economy,  their  sense  of  the  practical ;  sparing  not,  however,  their 
conceit  and  arrogance.  An  English  duchess,  he  remarks,  does  not 
hesitate  to  say, 1 1  cannot  afford'  a  proposed  outlay — an  avowal  rare 
ly  and  reluctantly  made  by  an  American,  even  in  moderate  circum 
stances.  The  English  he  thought  a  most  un-ideal  people,  even  in 
their  '  obstreperous  loyalty' ;  and  when  the  portly  and  well-to-do 
Briton  exclaims,  *  God  save  the  Queen,'  with  intense  enthusiasm,  he 
means,  *  God  save  my  estates,  my  rents,  my  shares,  my  consols,  my 
expectations.'  He  liked  the  amiable  women  of  England,  so  excel 
lent  at  the  fireside,  so  tame  in  the  drawing-room ;  but  he  doubted 
whether  they  could  so  much  as  comprehend  the  *  ideas  which  under 
lie  the  woman's -rights  movement.'  The  English  have  a  sharp  eye 
to  business,  he  thought ;  particularly  the  Free  Traders.  Our  cham 
pion  of  Protection  on  this  subject  remarks  : — "  The  French  widow 
who  appended  to  the  high-wrought  eulogium  engraved  on  her  hus 
band's  tombstone,  that  *  His  disconsolate  widow  still  keeps  the  shop 
No.  16  Rue  St.  Denis,'  had  not  a  keener  eye  to  business  than  these 
apostles  of  the  Economic  faith.  No  consideration  of  time  or  place 
is  regarded ;  in  festive  meetings,  peace  conventions,  or  gatherings 
of  any  kind,  where  men  of  various  lands  and  views  are  notoriously 
congregated,  and  where  no  reply  could  be  made  without  disturbing 
the  harmony  and  distracting  the  attention  of  the  assemblage,  the 
disciples  of  Cobden  are  sure  to  interlard  their  harangues  with  ad 
vice  to  foreigners  substantially  thus — '  N.  B.  Protection  is  a  great 
humbug  and  a  great  waste.  Better  abolish  your  tariffs,  stop  your 
factories,  and  buy  at  our  shops.  "We're  the  boys  to  give  you 
thirteen  pence  for  every  shilling.'  I  cannot  say  how  this  affected 
others,  but  to  me  it  seemed  hardly  more  ill-mannered  than  impolitic." 


874  THREE  MONTHS  IN  EUROPE. 

Yet,  the  better  qualities  of  the  British  decidedly  preponderate ; 
and  he  adds,  that  the  quiet  comfort  and  heartfelt  warmth  of  ar 
English  fireside  must  be  felt  to  be  appreciated. 

On  Wednesday,  the  sixth  of  August,  Horace  Greeley  was  once 
more  on  board  the  steamship  Baltic,  homeward  bound. 

"I  rejoice,"  he  w*ote  on  the  morning  of  his  departure,  "I  rejoice  to  feel 
that  every  hour,  henceforth,  must  lessen  the  distance  which  divides  me  from 
my  country,  whose  advantages  and  blessings  this  four  months'  absence  has 
taught  me  to  appr»-»iate  more  dearly  and  to  prize  more  deeply  than  before. 
With  a  glow  of  unvonted  rapture  I  see  our  stately  vessel's  prow  turned  toward 
the  setting  sun,  aH  strive  to  realize  that  only  some  ten  days  separate  me  from 
those  I  know  an<*  love  best  on  earth.  Hark  !  the  last  gun  announces  that  the 
mail-boat  has  lef*  us,  and  that  we  are  fairly  afloat  on  our  ocean  journey ;  the 
shores  of  Euroj>«  recede  from  our  vision ;  the  watery  waste  is  all  around  us ; 
and  now,  with  God  above  and  Death  below,  our  gallant  bark  and  her  clustered 
company  toprther  brave  the  dangers  of  the  mighty  deep.  May  Infinite  Mercy 
watch  over  owr  onward  path  and  bring  us  safely  to  our  several  homes  ;  for  to 
die  away  from  home  and  kindred  seems  one  of  the  saddest  calamities  that 
could  bofall  me.  This  mortal  tenement  would  rest  uneasily  in  an  ocean 
shroud  :  this  spirit  reluctantly  resign  that  tenement  to  the  chill  and  pitiless 
brine  :  these  eyes  close  regretfully  on  the  stranger  skies  and  bleak  inhospitat- 
ity  of  the  sullen  and  stormy  main.  No  !  let  me  see  once  more  the  scenes  so 
well  remembered  and  b  loved  ;  let  me  grasp,  if  but  once  again,  the  hand  of 
Friendship,  and  hear  the  thrilling  accents  of  proved  Affection,  and  when  sooner 
or  later  the  hour  of  mortal  agony  shall  come,  let  my  last  gaze  be  fixed  on  eyes 
that  will  not  forget  me  when  I  am  gone,  and  let  my  ashes  repose  in  that  con 
genial  soil  which,  however  I  may  there  be  esteemed  or  hated,  is  still  '  My  own 
green  land  forever  !'  " 

Neptune  was  more  gracious  to  the  voyager  on  his  homeward  than 
he  had  been  on  his  outward  passage.  The  skies  were  clearer,  the 
winds  more  favorable  and  gentler.  A  few  days,  not  intolerably  dis 
agreeable,  landed  him  on  the  shores  of  Manhattan.  The  ship  reached 
the  wharf  about  six  o'clock  in  the  morning,  cheating  the  expectant 
morning  papers  of  their  foreign  news,  which  the  editor  of  the  Tri 
bune  had  already  '  made  up'  for  publication  on  board  the  steamer. 
However,  lie  had  no  sooner  got  on  shore  than  he  rushed  away  to 
the  office,  bent  on  getting  out  an  l  extra'  in  advance  of  all  contempo 
raries.  The  compositors  were  all  absent,  of  course;  but  boys  were 
forthwith  dispatched  to  summon  them  ftvm  bed  and  breakfast.  Mean- 


RECENTLY.  375 

•vhile,  the  impetuous  Editor-in-Chief  proceeded  with  Ms  own  hands 
to  set  the  matter  in  type,  and  continued  to  assist  till  the  form  was 
ready  to  be  lowered  away  to  the  press-room  in  the  basement.  In 
an  hour  or  two  the  streets  resounded  with  the  cry,  "Extra  Try- 
bune ;  'yival  of  the  Baltic."  Then,  but  not  till  then,  Horace  Gree- 
ley  might  have  been  seen  in  a  corner  of  an  omnibus,  going  slowly 
ip  town,  towards  his  residence  in  Nineteenth  street. 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 

KECENTLY. 

Deliverance  from  Party— A  Private  Platform— Last  Interview  with  Henry  Clay— Horace 
Greeley  a  Farmer — He  irrigate8  and  drains — His  Advice  to  a  Young  Man — The 
Daily  Times— A  costly  Mistake— The  Isms  of  the  Tribune— The  Tribune  g^ts 
Glory— The  Tribune  in  Parliament— Proposed  Nomination  for  Governor— His  Life 
written — A  Judge's  Daughter  for  Sale. 

DURING  the  first  eight  or  nine  volumes  of  the  Tribune,  the  history 
of  that  newspaper  and  the  life  of  Horace  Greeley  were  one  and  the 
same  thing.  But  the  time  has  passed,  and  passed  forever,  when  a 
New  York  morning  paper  can  be  the  vehicle  of  a  single  mind. 
Since  the  year  1850,  when  the  Tribune  came  upon  the  town  as  a 
double  sheet  nearly  twice  its  original  size,  its  affairs  have  had  a  me 
tropolitan  complexity  and  extensiveness,  and  Horace  Greeley  has 
run  through  it  only  as  the  original  stream  courses  its  way  through 
a  river  swollen  and  expanded  by  many  tributaries.  The  quaffing 
traveler  cannot  tell,  as  he  rises  from  the  shore  refreshed,  whether 
he  has  been  drinking  Hudson,  or  Mohawk,  or  Moodna,  or  two  of 
them  mingled,  or  one  of  the  hundred  rivulets  that  trickle  into  the 
ample  stream  upon  which  fleets  and  '  palaces'  securely  ride.  Some 
wayfarers  think  they  can,  but  they  cannot;  and  their  erroneous 
guesses  are  among  the  amusements  of  the  tributary  corps.  Occa 
sionally,  however,  the  original  Greeley  flavor  is  recognizable  to  the 
dullest  palate. 

The  most  important  recent  event  in  the  history  of  the  Tribune 


376  RECENTLY. 

occurred  in  November,  1852,  when,  on  the  defeat  of  General  Scott 
and  the  annihilation  of  the  Whig  party,  it  ceased  to  be  a  party 
paper,  and  its  editor  ceased  to  be  a  party  man.  And  this  blessea 
emancipation,  with  its  effect  upon  the  press  of  the  country,  was 
worth  that  disaster.  We  never  had  great  newspapers  in  this  coun 
try  while  our  leading  papers  gave  allegiance  to  party,  and  never 
could  have  had.  A  great  newspaper  must  be  above  everything  and 
everybody.  Its  independence  must  be  absolute,  and  then  its  power 
will  be  as  nearly  so  as  it  ought  to  be. 

It  was  fit  that  the  last  triumph  of  party  should  be  its  greatest,  and 
that  triumph  was  secured  when  it  enlisted  such  a  man  as  Horace 
Greeley  as  the  special  and  head  champion  of  a  man  like  General 
Scott.  But  as  a  partisan,  what  other  choice  had  he  ?  To  use  his 
own  language,  he  supported  Scott  and  Graham,  because, 

"  1.  They  can  be  elected,  and  the  others  can't. 

"  2.  They  are  openly  and  thoroughly  for  PROTECTION  TO  HOME  INDUSTRY, 
while  the  others,  (judged  by  their  supporters,)  leau  to  Free  Trade. 

"  3.  Scott  and  Graham  are  backed  by  the  general  support  of  those  who  hold 
with  us,  that  government  may  and  should  do  much  positive  good." 

At  the  same  time  he  '  spat  upon  the  (Baltimore  compromise,  pro- 
fugitive  law)  platform,'  and  in  its  place,  gave  one  of  his  own.  As 
this  private  platform  is  the  most  condensed  and  characteristic  state 
ment  of  Horace  Greeley's  political  opinions  that  I  have  seen,  it  may 
properly  be  printed  here. 

OUR  PLATFORM. 

"  I.  As  to  the  Tariff1: — Duties  on  Imports — specific  so  far  as  practicable,  af 
fording  ample  protection  to  undeveloped  or  peculiarly  exposed  branches  of 
our  National  Industry,  and  adequate  revenue  for  the  support  of  the  govern 
ment  and  the  payment  of  its  debts.  Low  duties,  as  a  general  rule,  on  rude, 
bulky  staples,  whereof  the  cost  of  transportation  is  of  itself  equivalent  to  a 
heavy  impost,  and  high  duties  on  such  fabrics,  wares,  &c.,  as  come  into  de 
pressing  competition  with  our  own  depressed  infantile  or  endangered  pursuits. 

"  II.  As  to  National  Works : — Liberal  appropriations  yearly  for  the  improve 
ment  of  rivers  and  harbors,  and  such  eminently  national  enterprises  as  the 
Saut  St.  Marie  canal  and  the  Pacific  railroad  from  the  Mississippi.  Cut  down 
the  expenditures  for  forts,  ships,  troops  and  warlike  enginery  of  all  kinds,  and 
add  largely  to  those  for  workg  which  do  not  '  perish  in  the  using,'  but  will  re- 


A    PRIVATE    PLATFORM.  377 

main  for  ages  to  benefit  our  people,  strengthen  the  Union,  and  contribute  far 
more  to  the  national  defense  than  the  costly  machinery  of  war  ever  could. 

"  III.  As  to  Foreign  Policy : — '  Do  unto  others  [the  weak  and  oppressed 
as  well  as  the  powerful  and  mighty]  as  we  'would  have  them  do  unto  us.' 
No  shuffling,  no  evasion  of  duties  nor  shirking  responsibilities,  but  a  firm 
front  to  despots,  a  prompt  rebuke  to  every  outrage  on  the  law  of  Nations,  and 
a  generous,  active  sympathy  with  the  victims  of  tyranny  and  usurpation. 

"  IV.  As  to  Slavery  : — No  interference  by  Congress  with  its  existence  in  any 
slave  State,  but  a  firm  and  vigilant  resistance  to  its  legalization  in  any  national 
Territory,  or  the  acquisition  of  any  foreign  Territory  wherein  slavery  may  ex 
ist.  A  perpetual  protest  against  the  'hunting  of  fugitive  slaves  in  free  States 
ns  an  irresistible  cause  of  agitation,  ill  feeling  and  alienation  between  the 
North  and  the  South.  A  firm,  earnest,  inflexible  testimony,  in  common  with 
the  whole  non-slaveholding  Christian  world,  that  human  slavery,  though  le 
gally  protected,  is  morally  wrong,  and  ought  to  be  speedily  terminated. 

"  V.  As  to  State  rights: — More  regard  for  and  less  cant  about  them. 

"  VI.  ONE  PRESIDENTIAL  TERM,  and  no  man  a  candidate  for  any  office  while 
wielding  the  vast  patronage  of  the  national  executive. 

"  VII.  REFORM  IN  CONGRESS  : — Payment  by  the  session,  with  a  rigorous  de 
duction  for  each  day's  absence,  and  a  reduction  and  straightening  of  mileage. 
We  would  suggest  $2,000  compensation  for  the  first  (or  long),  and  $1,000  for 
the  second  (or  short)  session  ;  with  ten  cents  per  mile  for  traveling  (by  a  bee- 
line)  to  and  from  Washington." 

The  Tribune  fought  gallantly  for  Scott,  and  made  no  wry  faces  at 
the  *  brogue,'  or  any  other  of  the  peculiarities  of  the  candidate's 
stump  efforts.  When  the  sorry  fight  was  over,  the  Tribune  submit 
ted  with  its  usual  good  humor,  spoke  jocularly  of  the  '  late  whig 
party,'  declared  its  independence  of  party  organizations  for  the  fu 
ture,  and  avowed  its  continued  adhesion  to  all  the  principles  which 
it  had  hoped  to  promote  by  battling  with  the  whigs.  It  would  still 
war  with  the  aggressions  of  the  slave  power,  still  strive  for  free 
homesteads,  still  denounce  the  fillibusters,  and  still  argue  for  the 
Maine  Law. 

"  'Doctor,"  said  a  querulous,  suffering  invalid  who  had  paid  a  good  deal  of 
money  for  physic  to  little  apparent  purpose,  "  you  don't  seem  to  reach  tha 
seat  of  my  disease.  Why  don't  you  strike  at  the  seat  of  my  disorder  ?" 

" '  Well,  I  will,"  was  the  prompt  reply,  "  if  you  insist  on  it ;"  and,  lifting 
his  cane,  he  smashed  the  brandy  bottle  on  the  sideboard.'  " 

And  thus  ended  the  long  connection  of  the  New  York  Tribune 
with  the  whig  party 


378  RECENTLY. 

In  the  summer  of  1852,  Horace  Greeley  performed  the  melan 
choly  duty  of  finishing  Sargent's  Life  of  Henry  Clay.  He  added 
little,  however,  to  Mr.  Sargent's  narrative,  except  the  proceedings 
of  Congress  on  the  occasion  of  Mr.  Clay's  death  and  funeral.  One 
paragraph,  descriptive  of  the  last  interview  between  the  dying 
statesman  and  the  editor  of  the  Tribune,  claims  insertion : 

"Learning  from  others,"  says  Mr.  Greeley,  "how  ill  and  feeble  he 
was,  I  had  not  intended  to  call  upon  him,  and  remained  two  days 
under  the  same  roof  without  asking  permission  to  do  so.  Mean 
time,  however,  he  was  casually  informed  of  my  being  in  Washing 
ton,  and  sent  me  a  request  to  call  at  his  room.  I  did  so,  and  enjoyed 
a  half  hour's  free  and  friendly  conversation  with  him,  the  saddest 
and  the  last!  His  state  was  even  wors*e  than  I  feared;  he  was 
already  emaciated,  a  prey  to  a  severe  and  distressing  cough,  and 
complained  of  spells  of  difficult  breathing.  I  think  no  physician 
could  have  judged  him  likely  to  live  two  months  longer.  Yet  his 
mind  was  unclouded  and  brilliant  as  ever,  his  aspirations  for  his 
country's  welfare  as  ardent ;  and,  though  all  personal  ambition  had 
long  been  banished,  his  interest  in  the  events  and  impulses  of  the 
day  was  nowise  diminished.  He  listened  attentively  to  all  I  had 
to  say  of  the  repulsive  aspects  and  revolting  features  of  the  Fugi 
tive  Slave  Law  and  the  necessary  tendency  of  its  operation  to  ex 
cite  hostility  and  alienation  on  the  part  of  our  Northern  people, 
unaccustomed  to  Slavery,  and  seeing  it  exemplified  only  in  the 
brutal  arrest  and  imprisonment  of  some  humble  and  inoffensive 
negro  whom  they  had  learned  to  regard  as  a  neighbor.  1  think  I 
may  without  impropriety  say  that  Mr.  Clay  regretted  that  more 
care  had  not  been  taken  in  its  passage  to  divest  this  act  of  features 
needlessly  repulsive  to  Northern  sentiment,  though  he  did  not  deem 
any  change  in  its  provisions  now  practicable." 

A  strange,  but  not  inexplicable,  fondness  existed  in  the  bosom  of 
Horace  Greeley  for  the  aspiring  chieftain  of  the  Whig  party.  Very 
masculine  men,  men  of  complete  physical  development,  the  gallant, 
the  graceful,  the  daring,  often  enjoy  the  sincere  homage  of  soula 
superior  to  their  own ;  because  such  are  apt  to  place  an  extravagant 
value  upon  the  shining  qualities  which  they  do  not  possess.  From 
Webster,  tUe  great  over-Praised,  the  false  god  of  cold  New  Eng- 


HORACE  GREELEY  A  FARMER.  379 

land,  Horace  Greeley  seems  ever  to  have  shrunk  with  an  instinc 
tive  aversion. 

As  he  lost  his  interest  in  party  politics,  his  mind  reverted  to  the 
soil.  He  yearned  for  the  repose  and  the  calm  delights  of  country 
life. 

"  As  for  me,"  ht  said,  at  the  conclusion  of  an  address  before  the 
Indiana  State  Agricultural  Society,  delivered  in  October,  1853,  "as 
for  me,  long-tossed  on  the  stormiest  waves  of  doubtful  conflict  and 
arduous  endeavor,  I  have  begun  to  feel,  since  the  shades  of  forty 
years  fell  upon  me,  the  weary,  tempest-driven  voyager's  longing  for 
land,  the  wanderer's  yearning  for  the  hamlet  where  in  childhood  he 
nestled  by  his  mother's  knee,  and  was  soothed  to  sleep  on  her 
breast.  The  sober  down-hill  of  life  dispels  many  illusions,  while  it 
develops  or  strengthens  within  us  the  attachment,  perhaps  long 
smothered  or  overlaid,  for  4  that  dear  hut,  our  home.'  And  so  I,  in 
the  sober  afternoon  of  life,  when  its  sun,  if  not  high,  is  still  warm, 
have  bought  a  few  acres  of  land  in  the  broad,  still  country,  and, 
bearing  thither  my  household  treasures,  have  resolved  to  steal  from 
the  City's  labors  and  anxieties  at  least  one  day  in  each  week,  wherein 
to  revive  as  a  farmer  the  memories  of  my  childhood's  humble 
home.  And  already  I  realize  that  the  experiment  cannot  cost  so 
much  as  it  is  worth.  Already  I  find  in  that  day's  quiet  an  anti 
dote  and  a  solace  for  the  feverish,  festering  cares  of  the  weeks  which 
environ  it.  Already  my  brook  murmurs  a  soothing  even-song  to 
my  burning,  throbbing  brain ;  and  my  trees,  gently  stirred  by  the 
fresh  breezes,  whisper  to  my  spirit  something  of  their  own  quiet 
strength  and  patient  trust  in  God.  And  thus  do  I  faintly  realize, 
though  but  for  a  brief  and  flitting  day,  the  serene  joy  which  shall 
irradiate  the  Farmer's  vocation,  when  a  fuller  and  truer  Education 
shall  have  refined  and  chastened  his  animal  cravings,  and  when 
Science  shall  have  endowed  him  with  her  treasures,  redeeming  La 
bor  from  drudgery  while  quadrupling  its  efficiency,  and  crowning 
with  beauty  and  plenty  our  bounteous,  beneficent  Earth." 

The  portion  of  the  '  broad,  still  country '  alluded  to  in  this  elo 
quent  passage,  is  a  farm  of  fifty  acres  in  Westchester  county,  near 
Newcastle,  close  to  the  Harlem  railroad,  thirty-fonr  miles  from  the 
city  of  New  York.  Thither  the  tired  editor,  repairs  every  Saturday 
morning  by  an  early  train,  and  there  he  remains  directing  and  as- 


380  RECENTLY. 

sisting  in  the  labors  of  the  farm  for  that  single  day  only,  returning 
early  enough  on  Sunday  to  hear  the  flowing  rhetoric  of  Mr.  Cha- 
pin's  morning  sermon.  From  church — to  the  office  and  to  work. 

This  farm  has  seen  marvelous  things  done  on  it  during  the  three 
years  of  Mr.  Greeley's  ownership.  What  it  was  when  he  bought  it 
may  be  partly  inferred  :rom  another  passage  of  the  same  address  : 
"  I  once  went  to  look  at  a  farm  of  fifty  acres  that  I  thought  of  buy 
ing  for  a  summer  home,  some  forty  miles  from  the  city  of  New 
York.  The  owner  had  been  born  on  it,  as  I  believe  had  his  father 
before  him  ;  but  it  yielded  only  a  meager  subsistence  for  his  family, 
and  he  thought  of  selling  and  going  West.  I  went  over  it  with  him 
late  in  June,  passing  through  a  well-filled  barn-yard  which  had  not 
been  disturbed  that  season,  and  stepping  thence  into  a  corn-field  of 
five  acres,  with  a  like  field  of  potatoes  just  beyond  it.  4Why, 
neighbor  Tasked  I,  in  astonishment,  4how  could  you  leave  all  this 
manure  so  handy  to  your  plowed  land,  and  plant  ten  acres  without 
any  ?'  '  O,  I  was  sick  a  good  part  of  the  spring,  and  so  hurried 
that  I  could  not  find  time  to  haul  it  out.'  4  Why,  suppose  you  had 
planted  but  five  acres  in  all,  and  emptied  your  barn-yard  on  those 
five,  leaving  the  residue  untouched,  don't  you  think  you  would 
liave  harvested  a  larger  crop?'  'Well,  perhaps  I  should,'  was  the 
poor  farmer's  response.  It  seemed  never  before  to  have  occurred  to 
him  that  he  could  let  alone  a  part  of  his  land.  Had  he  progressed 
so  far,  he  might  have  ventured  thence  to  the  conclusion  that  it  is 
less  expensive  and  more  profitable  to  raise  a  full  crop  on  five  acres 
than  half  a  crop  on  ten.  I  am  sorry  to  say  we  have  a  good  many 
such  farmers  still  left  at  the  East."  But,  he  might  have  added, 
Horace  Greeley  is  not 'one  of  them.  He  did  not,  however,  and  the 
deficiency  shall  here  be  supplied. 

The  farm  is  at  present  a  practical  commentary  upon  the  oft- 
repeated  recommendations  of  the  Tribune  with  regard  to  '  high 
farming.'  It  consisted,  three  years  ago.  of  grove,  bog,  and  exhaust 
ed  upland,  in  nearly  equal  proportions.  In  the  grove,  which  is  a 
fine  growth  of  hickory,  hemlock,  iron-wood  and  oak,  a  small  white 
cottage  is  concealed,  built  by  Mr.  Greeley,  at  a  cost  of  a  few  hun 
dred  dollars.  The  farm-buildings,  far  more  costly  and  expensive, 
are  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  on  which  the  house  stands,  and  around 
them  are  the  gardens.  The  marshy  land,  which  was  formerly  verj 


HE   IRRIGATES   AND    DRAINS.  381 

wet,  i  ery  boggy,  and  quite  useless,  has  been  drained  by  a  system 
of  ditches  and  tiles  ;  the  bogs  have  been  pared  off  and  burnt,  the 
lano  plowed  and  planted,  and  made  exceedingly  productive.     The 
upland  has  been  prepared  for  irrigation,  the  water  being  supplied 
by  a  brook,  which  tumbled  down  the  hill  through  a  deep  glen.    Its 
course  was  arrested  by  a  dam,  and  from  the  reservoir  thus  formed, 
pipes  are  laid  to  the  different  fields,  which  can  be  inundated  by 
the  turning  of  a  cock.     The  experiment  of  irrigation,  however, 
has  been  suspended.     Last  spring  the  brook,  swollen  with  rage 
at  the  loss  of  its  ancient  liberty,  burst  through  the  dam,  and  scat 
tered  four  thousand*  dollars'  worth  of  solid  masonry  in  the  space 
of  a  minute  and  a  half.    This  year  a  new  attempt  will  be'  made  to 
reduce  it  to  submission,  and  conduct  its  waters  in  peaceful  and  fer 
tilizing  rivulets  down  the  rows  of  corn  and  potatoes.     Then  Mr. 
Greeley  can  take  down  his  weather-cock,  and  smile  in  the  midst 
of  drought,  water  his  crops  with  less  trouble  than  he  can  water  his 
horses,  and  sow  turnips  in  July,  regardless  of  the  clouds.     If  a  crop 
is  well  put  in  the  ground,  and  well  cared  for  as  it  progresses,  its 
perfect  success  depends  upon   two   things,   water  and    sunshine. 
Science  has  enabled  the  farmer  partly  to  regulate  the  supply  of  the 
latter,  and  perfectly  to  regulate  the  supply  of  the  former.     The 
slant  of  the  hills,  the  reflection  of  walls,  glass  covers,  trees,  awn 
ings,  and  other  contrivances,  may  be  made  to  concentrate  or  ward 
off  the  rays  of  the  sun.     Irrigation  and  drainage  go  far  to  complete 
the  farmer's  independence  of  the  wayward  weather.     In  all  the 
operations  of  his  little  farm,  Mr.  Greeley  takes  the  liveliest  interest, 
and  he  means  to  astonish  his  neighbors  with  some  wonderful  crops, 
by-and-by,    when  he  has  everything  in  training.     Indeed,  he  may 
have  done  so  already ;   as,  in  the  list  of  prizes  awarded  at  our  last 
Agricultural  State  Fair,  held  in  New  York,  October,  1854,  we  read, 
under  the  head  of  '  vegetables,' these  two  items: — "Turnips,  H. 
Greeley,  Chappaqua,  Westchester  Co.,  Two  Dollars,"  (the  second 
prize);  "Twelve  second-best  ears  of  White  Seed  Corn,  H.  Greeley, 
Two  Dollars."    Looking  down  over  the  reclaimed  swamp,  all  bright 
now  with  waving  flax,  he  said  one  day,  "All  else  that  I  have  done 
may  be  of  no  avail ;  but  what  I  have  done  here  is  done  ;  it  will  last." 
A  private  letter,  written  about  this  time,  appeared  in  the  country 
papers,  and  still  emerges  occasionally.      A  young  man  wrote  'o  Mr. 


382  RECENTLY. 

Greeley,  requesting  his  advice  upon  a  project  of  going  to  college 
and  studying  law.     The  reply  was  as  follows  : 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR, — Had  you  asked  me  whether  I  would  advise  you  to  desert 
agriculture  for  law,  I  should  have  answered  no  !  very  decidedly.  There  is 
already  a  superabundance  of  lawyers,  coupled  with  a  great  scarcity  of  good 
farmers.  Why  carry  your  coals  to  Newcastle  ? 

"  As  to  a  collegiate  education,  my  own  lack  of  it  probably  disqualifies  me 
to  appreciate  it  fully  ;  but  I  think  you  might  better  be  learning  to  fiddle 
And  if  you  are  without  means,  I  would  advise  you  to  hire  ten  acres  of  good 
land,  work  ten  hours  a  day  on  it,  for  five  days  each  week,  and  devote  all  your 
spare  hours  to  reading  and  study,  especially  to  the  study  of  agricultural 
science,  and  thus  '  owe  no  man  anything,'  while  you  receive  a  thorough 
practical  education.  Such  is  not  the  advice  you  seek  ;  nevertheless,  I  remain 
yours,  HORACE  GREELEY." 

This  letter  may  serve  as  a  specimen  of  hundreds  of  similar  ones. 
Probably  there  never  lived  a  man  to  whom  so  many  perplexed  in 
dividuals  applied  for  advice  and  aid,  as  to  Horace  Greeley.  He 
might  with  great  advantage  have  taken  a  hint  from  the  practice  of 
Field  Marshal  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  who,  it  is  said,  had  forms 
of  reply  printed,  which  he  filled  up  and  dispatched  to  anxious  cor 
respondents,  with  commendable  promptitude.  From  facts  which  I 
have  observed,  and  from  others  of  which  I  have  heard,  I  think  it 
safe  to  say,  that  Horace  Greeley  receives,  on  an  average,  five  appli 
cations  daily  for  advice  and  assistance.  His  advice  he  gives  very 
freely,  but  the  we.alth  of  Astor  would  not  suffice  to  answer  all  his 
begging  letters  in  the  way  the  writers  of  them  desire. 

In  the  fall  of  1852,  the  Daily  Times  was  started  by  Mr.  H.  J. 
Raymond,  an  event  which  gave  an  impetus  to  the  daily  press  of  the 
city.  The  success  of  the  Times  was  signal  and  immediate,  for  three 
reasons :  1,  it  was  conducted  with  tact,  industry  and  prudence ; 
2,  it  was  not  the  Herald  ;  8,  it  was  not  the  Tribune.  Before  the 
Times  appeared,  the  Tribune  and  Herald  shared  the  cream  of  the 
daily  paper  business  between  them ;  but  there  was  a  large  class 
who  disliked  the  Tribune's  principles  and  the  Herald's  want  of 
principle.  The  majority  of  people  take  a  daily  paper  solely  to  as 
certain  what  is  going  on  in  the  world.  They  are  averse  to  profli 
gacy  and  time-serving,  and  yet  are  offended  at  the  independent 
avowal  of  ideas  in  advance  of  their  own.  And  though  Horace 


A    COSTLY   MISTAKE.  383 

Greeley  is  not  the  least  conservative  of  men,  yet,  from  his  practice 
of  giving  every  n<;\v  thought  and  every  new  man  a  healing  in  the 
columns  of  his  paper,  unthinking  persons  received  the  impret-sion 
that  he  was  an  advocate  of  every  new  idea,  and  a  champion  of  every 
ne\v  man.  They  thought  the  Tribune  was  an  unsafe,  disorganizing 
paper.  "  An  excellent  paper,"  said  they,  "and  honest,  but  then  it 's 
so  full  of  isms  /"  The  Times  stepped  in  with  a  complaisant  bow, 
won  over  twenty  thousand  of  the  ism-hating  class  in  a  singla 
year,  and  yet  without  reducing  the  circulation  of  either  of  its  elder 
rivals.  Where  those  twenty  thousand  subscribers  came  from  is  one 
of  the  mysteries  of  journalism. 

In  the  spring  of  1853  the  Tribune  signalized  its  '  entrance  jnto 
its  teens'  by  making  a  very  costly  mistake.  It  enlarged  its  borders 
to  such  an  extent  that  the  price  of  subscription  did  not  quite  cover 
the  cost  of  the  white  paper  upon  which  it  was  printed,  thus  throw 
ing  t!ie  burden  of  its  support  upon  the  advertiser.  And  this,  too, 
in  the  face  of  the  fact  that  the  Tribune,  though  the  best  vehicle  of 
advertising  then  in  existence,  was  in  least  favor  among  the  class 
whose  advertising  is  the  most  profitable.  Yet  it  was  natural  for 
Horace  Greeley  to  commit  an  error  of  this  kind.  Years  ago  he  had 
written,  "  Better  a  dinner  of  herbs  with  a  large  circulation  than  a 
stalled  ox  with  a  small  one."  And,  in  announcing  the  enlargement, 
he  said,  u  We  are  confessedly  ambitious  to  make  the  Tribune  the 
leading  journal  of  America,  and  have  dared  and  done  somewhat  to 
that  end." 

How  much  he  '  dared'  in  the  case  of  this  enlargement  may  be  in 
ferred  from  the  fact  that  it  involved  an  addition  of  $1,044  to  the 
weekly,  $54,329  to  the  annual,  expenses  of  the  concern.  Yet  he 
'  dared'  not  add  a  cent  to  the  price  of  the  paper,  which  it  is  thought 
he  might  have  done  with  perfect  safety,  because  those  who  like  the 
Tribune  like  it  very  much,  and  will  have  it  at  any  price.  Men  have 
been  heard  to  talk  of  their  Bible,  their  Shakspeare,  arid  their  Tri 
bune,  as  the  three  necessities  of  their  spiritual  life;  while  those 
who  dislike  it,  dislike  it  excessively,  and  are  wont  to  protest  that 
they  should  deem  their  houses  defiled  by  its  presence.  The  Tribune, 
however,  stepped  bravely  out  under  its  self-imposed  load  of  white 
paper.  In  one  year  the  circulation  of  the  Daily  increased  from 
17,640  to  26,880.  the  Semi- Weekly  from  3.120  to  11,400,  the  Week- 


384  RECENTLY. 

ly  from  51,000  to  103,680,  the  California  Tribune  from  2,800  to 
3,500,  and  the  receipts  of  the  office  increased  $70,900.  The  profits, 
however,  were  inadequate  to  reward  suitably  the  exertions  of 
its  proprietors,  and  recently  the  paper  was  slightly  reduced  in 
size. 

The  enlargement  called  public  attention  to  the  career  and  the 
merits  of  the  Tribune  in  a  remarkable  manner.  The  press  gener 
ally  applauded  its  spirit,  ability  and  courage,  but  deplored  its  isms, 
which  gave  rise  to  a  set  article  in  the  Tribune  on  the  subject  of  isins. 
This  is  the  substance  of  the  Tribune's  opinions  of  isms  and  ismists. 
It  is  worth  considering: 

"  A  very  natural  division  of  mankind  is  that  which  contemplates  them  in 
two  classes — those  who  think  for  themselves,  and  those  who  have  their  think 
ing  done  by  others,  dead  or  living.  With  the  former  class,  the  paramount 
consideration  is—'  What  is  right  ?'  With  the  latter,  the  first  inquiry  is— 
'  What  do  the  majority,  or  the  great,  or  the  pious,  or  the  fashionable  think 
About  it  ?  How  did  our  fathers  regard  it  1  What  will  Mrs.  Grundy  say  ?' 
******** 

"  And  truly,  if  the  life  were  not  more  than  meat — if  its  chief  ends  were 
wealth,  station  and  luxury — then  the  smooth  and  plausible  gentlemen  who  as 
sent  to  whatever  is  popular  without  inquiring  or  caring  whether  it  is  essential 
ly  true  or  false,  are  the  Solomons  of  their  generation. 

"  Yet  in  a  world  so  full  as  this  is  of  wrong  and  suffering,  of  oppression  and 
degradation,  there  must  be  radical  causes  for  so  many  and  so  vast  practical 
evils.  It  cannot  be  that  the  ideas,  beliefs,  institutions,  usages,  prejudices, 
whereof  such  gigantic  miseries  are  born — wherewith  at  least  they  co-exist— 
transcend  criticism  and  rightfully  refuse  scrutiny.  It  cannot  be  that  the 
springs  are  pure  whence  flow  such  turbid  and  poisonous  currents. 

"  Now  the  Reformer — the  man  who  thinks  for  himself  and  acts  as  his  own 
judgment  and  conscience  dictate — is  very  likely  to  form  erroneous  opinions. 
*  *  *  But  Time  will  confirm  and  establish  his  good  works  and  gently 
amend  his  mistakes.  The  detected  error  dies ;  the  misconceived  and  rejected 
truth  is  but  temporarily  obscured  and  soon  vindicates  its  claim  to  general  ac 
ceptance  and  regard. 

" '  The  world  docs  move,'  and  its  motive  power,  under  God,  is  the  fearless 
thought  and  speech  of  those  who  dare  be  in  advance  of  their  time — who  are 
sneered  at  and  shunned  through  their  days  of  struggle  and  of  trial  as  luna 
tics,  dreamers,  impracticables  and  visionaries — men  of  crotchets,  of  vagaries, 
or  of  '  isms.'  These  are  the  masts  and  sails  of  the  ship,  to  which  Conser 
vatism  answers  as  ballast.  The  ballast  is  important— at  times  indispensable 
— but  it  would  ba  of  no  account  if  the  ship  were  not  bound  to  go  ahead." 


THE   TRIBUNE   IN    PARLIAMENT.  885 

Many  papers,  however,  gave  the  Tribune  its  full  due  of  apprecia 
tion  and  praise.  Two  notices  which  appeared  at  the  time  are  worth 
copying,  at  least  in  part.  The  Newark  Mercury  gave  it  this  un- 
equaled  and  deserved  commendation  :— "  We  never  knew  a  man  of 
illiberal  sentiments,  one  unjust  to  his  workmen,  and  groveling  in  his 
aspirations,  who  liked  the  Tribune ;  and  it  is  rare  to  find  one  with  lib 
eral  views  who  does  not  admit  its  claims  upon  the  public  regard." 

The  St.  Joseph  Valley  Register,  a  paper  published  at  South  Bend, 
Indiana,  held  the  following  language  : 

"  The  influence  of  the  Tribune  upon  public  opinion  is  greater  even  than  its 
conductors  claim  for  it.  Its  Isms,  with  scarce  an  exception,  though  the  people 
may  reject  them  at  first,  yet  ripen  into  strength  insensibly.  A  few  years  since 
the  Tribune  commenced  the  advocacy  of  the  principle  of  Free  Lands  for  the 
Landless.  The  first  bill  upon  that  subject,  presented  by  Mr.  Greeley  to  Con 
gress,  was  hooted  out  of  that  body.  But  who  doubts  what  the  result  would  be, 
if  the  people  of  the  whole  nation  had  the  right  to  vote  up^n  the  question  to 
day  1  It  struck  the  first  blow  in  earnest  at  the  corruptions  of  the  Mileage  sys 
tem,  and  in  return,  Congressmen  of  all  parties  heaped  opprobrium  upon  it,  and 
calumny  upon  its  Editor.  A  corrupt  Congress  may  postpone  its  Reform,  but 
is  there  any  doubt  of  what  nine-tenths  of  the  whole  people  would  accomplish 
on  this  subject  if  direct  legislation  were  in  their  hands  7  It  has  inveighed  in 
severe  language  against  the  flimsy  penalties  which  the  American  legislatures 
have  imposed  for  offenses  upon  female  virtue.  And  how  many  States,  our  own 
among  the  number,  have  tightened  up  their  legislation  upon  that  subject 
within  the  last  half-dozen  years.  The  blows  that 'it  directs  against  Intemper 
ance  have  more  power  than  the  combined  attacks  of  half  the  distinctive  Tem 
perance  Journals  in  the  land.  It  has  contended  for  some  plan  by  which  the 
people  should  choose  their  Presidents  rather  than  National  Conventions  ;  and 
he  must  be  a  careless  observer  of  the  progress  of  events  who  does  not  see  that 
the  Election  of  1856  is  more  likely  to  be  won  by  a  Western  Statesman,  pledged 
solely  to  the  Pacific  Railroad  and  Honest  Government,  than  by  any  political 
nominee'?  And,  to  conclude,  the  numerous  Industrial  Associations  of  Workers 
to  manufacture  Iron,  Boots  and  Shoes,  Hats,  Ac.,  on  their  own  account,  with 
the  Joint  Stock  Family  Blocks  of  Buildings,  so  popular  now  in  New  York, 
Model  Wash-houses,  Ac.,  Ac.,  seem  like  a  faint  recognition  at  least  of  the  main 
principles  of  Fourierism  (whose  details  we  like  as  little  as  any  one),  Op 
portunity  for  Work  for  all,  and  Economy  in  the  Expenses  and  Labor  of  the 
Family." 

From  across  the  Atlantic,  also,  came  compliments  for  the  Tri 
bune  In  one  of  the  debates  in  the  House  of  Commons  upon  the 

17 


386  RECENTLY. 

abolition  of  the  advertisement  duty,  Mr.  Bright  used  a  copy  of  tho 
Tribune,  as  Burke  once  did  a  French  Republican  dagger,  for  the 
purposes  of  his  argument.  Mr.  Bright  said  : 

"  lie  had  a  newspaper  there  (the  New  York  Tribune),  which  he  was  bound 
to  say,  was  as  good  as  any  published  in  England  this  week.  [The  Hon.  Mem 
ber  here  opened  out  a  copy  of  the  New  York  Tribune,  and  exhibited  it  to  the 
House.]  It  was  printed  with  a  finer  type  than  any  London  daily  paper.  It 
was  exceedingly  good  as  a  journal,  quite  sufficient  for  all  the  purposes  of  a 
newspaper.  [Spreading  it  out  before  the  House,  the  honorable  gentleman  de 
tailed  its  contents,  commencing  with  very  numerous  advertisements.]  It  con 
tained  various  articles,  amongst  others,  one  against  public  dinners,  in  which  ho 
thought  honorable  members  would  fully  agree — one  criticising  our  Chancellor 
of  the  Exchequer's  budget,  in  part  justly — and  one  upon  the  Manchester 
school ;  but  he  must  say,  as  far  as  the  Manchester  school  went,  it  did  not  do 
them  justice  at  all.  [Laughter.]  He  ventured  to  say  that  there  was  not  a 
better  paper  than  this  in  London.  Moreover,  it  especially  wrote  in  favor  of 
Temperance  and  Anti-Slavery,  and  though  honorable  members  were  not  all 
members  of  the  Temperance  Society  perhaps,  they  yet,  he  was  sure,  all  ad 
mitted  the  advantages  of  Temperance,  while  not  a  voice  could  be  lifted  there 
in  favor  of  Slavery.  Here,  then,  was  a  newspaper  advocating  great  princi 
ples,  and  conducted  in  all  respects  with  the  greatest  propriety — a  newspaper 
in  which  he  found  not  a  syllable  that  he  might  not  put  on  his  table  and  allow 
his  wife  and  daughter  to  read  with  satisfaction.  And  this  was  placed  on  the 
table  every  morning  for  Id.  [Hear,  hear.]  What  he  wanted,  then,  to  ask  the 
Government,  was  this — How  comes  it,  and  for  what  good  end,  and  by  what 
contrivance  of  fiscal  oppression — for  it  can  be  nothing  else — was  it,  that  while 
the  workman  of  New  York  could  have  such  a  paper  on  his  breakfast  table 
every  morning  for  ld.t  the  workman  of  London  must  go  without  or  pay  five- 
pence  for  the  accommodation  7  [Hear,  hear.]  How  was  it  possible  that  the 
latter  could  keep  up  with  his  transatlantic  competitor  in  the  race,  if  one  had 
daily  intelligence  of  everything  that  was  stirring  in  the  world,  while  the  other 
was  kept  completely  it  ignorance  ?  [Hear,  hear.]  Were  they  not  running  a 
race,  in  the  face  of  the  world,  with  the  people  of  America  ?  Were  not  the 
Collins  and  Cunard  lines  calculating  their  voyages  to  within  sixteen  minutes 
of  time  ?  And  if,  while  such  a  race  was  going  on,  the  one  artisan  paid  five- 
ponce  for  the  daily  intelligence  which  the  other  obtained  for  a  penny,  how 
was  it  possible  that  the  former  could  keep  his  place  in  the  international  rival 
ry  1  [Hear,  hear.J" 

This  visible,  tangible,  and  unanswerable  fj*gument  had  its  effect. 
The  advertisement  duty  has  been  abolished,  and  now  only  the  stamp 
duty  intervenes  between  tt<)  English  workingman  and  his  penny 


AN   EDITORIAL   REPARTEE.  387 

paper— the  future  Tribune  of  the  English  people,  which  is  to  ex 
pound  their  duties  and  defend  their  rights. 

In  the  summer  of  1854,  Mr.  Greeley  was  frequently  spoken  of  in 
the  papers  in  connection  with  the  office  of  Governor  of  the  State  of 
New  York.  A  very  little  of  the  usual  maneuvering  on  his  part 
would  have  secured  his  nominati  n,  and  if  he  had  been  nominated, 
he  would  have  been  elected  by  a  majority  that  would  have  surprised 
politicians  by  trade. 

In  1854,  his  life  was  written  by  a  young  and  unknown  scribblet 
for  the  press,  who  had  observed  his  career  with  much  interest,  and 
who  knew  enough  of  the  story  of  his  life  to  be  aware,  that,  if  sim 
ply  told,  that  story  would  be  read  with  pleasure  and  do  good. 
This  volume  is  the  result  of  his  labors. 

Here,  this  chapter  had  ended,  and  it  was  about  to  be  consigned 
to  the  hands  of  the  printer.  But  an  event  transpires  which,  it  is 
urgently  suggested,  ought  to  have  notice.  It  is  nothing  more  than 
a  new  and  peculiarly  characteristic  editorial  repartee,  or  rather,  a 
public  reply  by  Mr.  Greeley  to  a  private  letter.  And  though  the 
force  of  the  reply  was  greatly,  and  quito  unnecessarily,  diminished 
by  the  publication  of  the  correspondent's  name  and  address,  con 
trary  to  his  request,  yet  the  correspondence  seems  too  interesting 
to  be  omitted  : 

THE    LETTER. 

« COUNTY,  Miss.,  Sept.  1854. 

'  HON.  HORACE  GREELEY,  New  York  City  : 

"  My  object  in  addressing  you  these  lines  is  this  :  I  own  a  negro  girl  named 
Catharine,  a  bright  mulatto,  aged  between  twenty-eight  and  thirty  years, 
who  is  intelligent  and  beautiful.  The  girl  wishes  to  obtain  her  freedom,  and 
reside  in  either  Ohio  or  New  York  State ;  and,  to  gratify  her  desire,  I  am 
willing  to  take  the  sum  of  $1,000,  which  the  friends  of  liberty  will  no  doubt 
make  up.  Catharine,  as  she  tells  me,  wag  born  near  Savannah,  Ga.,  and  was 
a  daughter  of  a  Judge  Hopkins,  and,  at  the  age  of  seven  years,  accompanied 
her  young  mistress  (who  was  a  legitimate  daughter  of  the  Judge's)  on  a  visit 
to  New  Orleans,  where  she  (the  legitimate)  died.  Catharine  was  then  seized 
and  sold  by  the  Sheriff  of  New  Orleans,  under  attachment,  to  pay  the  debts 
contracted  in  the  city  by  her  young  mistress,  and  was  purchased  by  a  Dutch 
man  named  Shinoski.  Shinoski,  being  pleased  with  the  young  girl's  looks, 
placed  her  in  a  quadroon  school,  and  gave  her  a  good  education.  The  girl  can 


RECENTLY. 

read  and  write  as  well  or  better  than  myself,  and  speaks  the  Dutch  and 
French  languages  almost  to  perfection.  When  the  girl  attained  the  ago  of 
eighteen,  Shinoski  died,  and  she  was  again  sold,  and  fell  into  a  trader's  hands, 
by  the  name  of  John  Valentine,  a  native  of  your  State.  Valentine  brought 

her  up  to ,  where  I  purchased  her  in  1844,  for  the  sura  of  $1,150. 

Catharine  is  considered  the  best  seamstress  and  cook  in  this  county,  and  I 
could  to-morrow  sell  her  for  $1,600,  but  I  prefer  letting  her  go  for  81,000,  so 
that  she  may  obtain  her  freedom.  She  has  had  opportunities  to  get  to  a  free 
State,  and  obtain  her  freedom  ;  but  she  says  that  she  will  never  run  away  to 
do  it.  Her  father,  she  says,  promised  to  free  h«r,  and  so  did  Shinoski.  If  I  was 
able,  I  would  free  her  without  any  compensation,  but  losing  $15,000  on  the 
last  presidential  election  has  taken  very  near  my  all. 

"  Mr.  Geo.  D.  Prentice,  editor  of  the  Louisville  (Ky.)  Journal,  knows  me 
very  well  by  character,  to  whom  (if  you  wish  to  make  any  inquiries  regard- 
wag  this  matter)  you  are  at  liberty  to  refer. 

"  If  you  should  make  any  publication  in  your  paper  in  relation  to  this 
matter,  you  will  please  not  mention  my  name  in  connection  with  it,  nor  tho 
place  whence  this  letter  was  written.  Catharine  is  honest ;  and,  for  the  ten 
years  that  I  have  owned  her,  I  never  struck  her  a  lick,  about  her  work  or 
anything  else. 

"  If  it  was  not  that  I  intend  to  emigrate  to  California,  money  could  not 
buy  her. 

"  I  have  given  you  a  complete  and  accurate  statement  concerning  this  girl, 
and  am  willing  that  she  shall  be  examined  here,  or  in  Louisville,  Ky.,  before 
the  bargain  is  closed. 

"  Very  respectfully. 

[Name  in  full.] 

REPLY. 

"  Mr. ,  I  have  carried  your  letter  of  the  28th  ult.  in  my  hat  for 

several  days,  awaiting  an  opportunity  to  answer  it  I  now  seize  the  first  op 
portune  moment,  and,  as  yours  is  one  of  a  class  with  which  I  am  frequently 
favored,  I  will  send  you  my  reply  through  the  Tribune,  wishing  it  regarded 
as  a  general  answer  to  all  such  applications. 

"  Let  me  begin  by  frankly  stating  that  I  am  not  engaged  in  the  slave 
trade,  and  do  not  now  contemplate  embarking  in  that  business  ;  but  no  man 
can  say  confidently  what  he  may  or  may  not  become  ;  and,  if  I  ever  should 
engage  in  the  traffic  you  suggest,  it  will  be  but  fair  to  remember  you  as 
among  my  prompters  to  undertake  it.  Yet  even  then  I  must  decline  any 
such  examination  as  you  proffer  of  the  property  you  wish  to  dispose  of.  Your 
biography  is  so  full  and  precise,  so  frank  and  straight-forward,  that  I  prefer 
to  rest  satisfied  with  your  assurance  in  the  premises. 

"  You  will  see  that  I  have  disregarded  your  request  that  your  name  and 
residence  should  be  suppressed  by  me.  That  request  seems  to  me  inspired  by 


A  JUDGE'S  DAUGHTER  FOR  SALE.         889 

a  modesty  and  self- sacrifice  unsuited  to  the  Age  of  Brass  we  live  in.  Are 
you  not  seeking  to  do  a  humane  and  generous  act?  Are  you  not  proposing 
to  tax  yourself  0600  in  order  to  raise  an  intelligent,  capable,  deserving 
woman  from  slavery  to  freedom  ?  Are  you  not  proposing  to  do  this  in  a 
manner  perfectly  lawful  and  unobjectionable,  involving  no  surrender  or  com 
promise  of  '  Southern  Rights'  ?  My  dear  sir !  such  virtue  must  not  be  allow 
ed  to  '  blush  unseen.'  Our  age  needs  the  inspiration  of  heroic  examples,  and 
those  who  would  '  do  good  by  stealth,  and  blush  to  find  it  Fame.'  must — by  gentle 
violence,  if  need  be — stand  revealed  to  an  amazed,  admiring  world.  True,  it 
might  (and  might  not)  have  been  still  more  astounding  but  for  your  unlucky 
gambling  on  the  late  presidential  election,  wherein  it  is  hard  to  tell  whether 
you  who  lost  your  money  or  those  who  won  their  president  were  most  unfortun 
ate.  I  affectionately  advise  you  both  never  to  do  so  again. 

"  And  now  as  to  this  daughter  of  the  late  Judge  Hopkins  of  Savannah, 
Georgia,  whom  you  propose  to  sell  me  : 

"  I  cannot  now  remember  that  I  have  ever  heard  Slavery  justified  on  any 
ground  which  did  not  assert  or  imply  that  it  is  the  best  condition  for  the  negro. 
The  blacks,  we  are  daily  told,  cannot  take  care  of  themselves,  but  sink  into 
idleness,  debauchery,  squalid  poverty  and  utter  brutality,  the  moment  the 
master's  sustaining  rule  and  care  are  withdrawn.  If  this  is  true,  how  dare 
you  turn  this  poor  dependent,  for  whose  well-being  you  are  responsible,  over 
to  me,  who  neither  would  nor  could  exert  a  master's  control  over  her  1  If  this 
slave  ought  not  to  be  set  at  liberty,  why  do  you  ask  me  to  bribe  you  with 
$1,000  to  do  her  that  wrong  1  If  she  ought  to  be,  why  should  I  pay  you 
$1,000  for  doing  your  duty  in  the  premises'?  You  hold  a  peculiar  and  respon 
sible  relation  to  her,  through  your  own  voluntary  act,  but  /  am  only  related 
to  her  through  Adam,  the  same  as  to  every  Esquimaux,  Patagonian,  or  New- 
Zealander.  w  hatever  may  be  your  duty  in  the  premises,  why  should  I  be 
called  on  to  help  you  discharge  it  ? 

"  Full  as  your  account  of  this  girl  is,  you  say  nothing  of  her  children, 
though  such  she  undoubtedly  has,  whether  they  be  also  those  of  her  several 
masters,  as  she  was,  or  their  fathers  were  her  fellow-slaves.  If  she  is  liber 
ated  and  comes  North,  what  is  to  become  of  them  1  How  is  she  to  be  recon- 
eiled  to  leaving  them  in  slavery  1  How  can  we 'be  assured  that  the  masters 
wno  own  or  to  whom  you  will  sell  them  before  leaving  for  California,  will 
prove  as  humane  and  liberal  as  you  are  ? 

"  You  inform  me  that  { the  friends  of  Liberty '  in  New  York  or  hereabout, 
'will  no  doubt  make  up'  the  $1,000  you  demand,  in  order  to  give  this  daugh 
ter  of  a  Georgia  Judge  her  freedom.  I  think  and  trust  you  misapprehend 
them.  For  though  they  have,  to  my  certain  knowledge,  under  the  impulse  of 
special  appeals  to  their  sympathies,  and  in  view  of  peculiar  dangers  or  hard 
ships,  paid  a  great  deal  more  money  than  they  could  comfortably  spare  (few 
of  them  being  ri/>.h)  to  buy  individual  slaves  out  of  bondage,  yet  their  judg- 


390  RECENTLY. 

ment  has  never  approved  such  payment  of  tribute  to  man-thieves,  an!  every 
day's  earnest  consideration  causes  it  to  be  regarded  with  less  and  less  favor. 
For  it  is  not  the  snatching  of  here  and  there  a  person  from  Slavery,  at  the 
possible  rate  of  one  for  every  thousand  increase  of  our  slave  population,  that 
they  desire,  but  the  overthrow  and  extermination  of  the  slave-holding  system  ; 
and  this  end,  they  realize,  is  rather  hindered  than  helped  by  their  buying 
here  and  there  a  slave  into  freedom.  If  by  so  buying  ten  thousand  a  year, 
at  a  cost  of  Ten  Millions  of  Dollars,  they  should  confirm  you  and  other  slave 
holders  in  the  misconception  that  Slavery  is  regarded  without  abhorrence  by 
intelligent  Christian  freemen  at  the  North,  they  would  be  doing  great  harm 
to  their  cause  and  injury  to  their  fellow-Christians  in  bondage.  You  may 
have  heard,  perhaps,  of  the  sentiment  proclaimed  by  Decatur  to  the  slave 
holders  of  the  Barbary  Coast—'  Millions  for  defense— not  a  cent  for  tribute  V 
—and  perhaps  also  of  its  counterpart  in  the  Scotch  ballad— 

Instead  of  broad  pieces,  we'll  pay  them  broadswords;'— 

but  '  the  friend*,  of  Liberty '  in  this  quarter  will  fight  her  battle  neither  with 
lead  nor  steel — much  less  with  gold.  Their  trust  is  in  the  might  of  Opinion — 
in  the  resistless  power  of  Truth  where  Discussion  is  untrammeled  and  Com 
mercial  Intercourse  constant — in  the  growing  Humanity  of  our  age — in  the 
deepening  sense  of  Common  Brotherhood— in  the  swelling  hiss  of  Christen 
dom  and  the  just  benignity  of  God.  In  the  earnest  faith  that  these  must  soon 
eradicate  a  wrong  so  gigantic  and  so  palpable  as  Christian  Slavery,  they  se 
renely  await  the  auspicious  hour  which  must  surely  come. 

"  Requesting  you,  Mr. ,  not  to  suppress  my  name  in  case  you  see  fit 

to  reply  to  this,  and  to  be  assured  that  I  write  no  letter  that  I  am  ashamed 
of,  I  remain,  Yours,  so-so, 

"HORACE  GREELEY." 

And  here,  closing  the  last  volume  of  the  Tribune,  the  reader  is 
invited  to  a  survey  of  the  place  whence  it  was  issued,  to  glance  at 
the  routine  of  the  daily  press,  to  witness  the  scene  in  which  our 
hero  has  labored  so  long.  The  Tribune  building  remains  to  be  ex 
hibited. 


[JIR.  GBEELEY  AND  MR.  DANA  IN  THE  EDITORIAL   ROOMS.] 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

DAY  AND  NIGHT  IN  THE  TRIBUNE  OFFICE. 

The  streets  before  daybreak— Waking  the  newsboys— Morning  scene  in  the  press-room 
— The  Compositor's  room— The  four  Phalanxes— The  Tribune  Directory — A  lull  in 
the  Tribune  office— A  glance  at  the  paper— The  advertisements— Telegraphic  mar 
vels — Marine  Intelligence — New  Publications — Letters  from  the  people — Editorial 
articles — The  editorial  Rooms — The  Sanctum  Sanctorum — Solon  Robinson — Bay 
ard  Taylor— William  Henry  Fry— George  Ripley— Charles  A.  Dana— F.  J.  Ottarson 
—George  M.  Snow— Enter  Horace  Greeley— His  Preliminary  botheration— The 
composing-room  in  tho  eTening — The  editors  at  work — Mr.  Greeley'a  manner  of 
writing — Midnight— Three  o'clock  in  tha  morning — The  carriers. 

WE  are  in  the  streets,  walking  from  the  regions  where  money  is 
spent  towards  those  narrow  and  crooked  places  wherein  it  is  earned. 
The  day  is  about  to  dawn,  but  the  street  lights  are  still  burning,  and 
the  greater  part  of  the  million  people  who  live  within  sight  of  the 
City  Hall's  illuminated  dial,  are  lying  horizontal  and  unconscious,  in 
the  morning's  last  slumber.  The  streets  are  neither  silent  nor  de 
serted — the  streets  of  New  York  never  are.  The  earliest  milkmen 
have  begun  their  morning  crow,  squeak,  whoop,  and  yell.  The 
first  omnibus  has  not  yet  come  down  town,  but  the  butcher's 
carts,  heaped  with  horrid  flesh,  with  men  sitting  upon  it  reeking 
with  a  night's  carnage,  are  rattling  along  Broadway  at  the  furious 
pace  for  which  the  butcher's  carts  of  all  nations  are  noted.  The 
earliest  workmen  are  abroad,  dinner-kettle  in  hand ;  carriers  with 
their  bundles  of  newspapers  slung  across  their  backs  by  a  strap, 
are  emerging  from  Nassau  street,  and  making  their  way  across  the 
Park — towards  all  the  ferries — up  Broadway — up  Chatham  street — 
to  wherever  their  district  of  distribution  begins.  The  hotels  have 
just  opened  their  doors  and  lighted  up  their  offices ;  and  drowsy 
waiters  are  perambulating  the  interminable  passages,  knocking  up 
passengers  for  the  early  trains,  and  waking  up  everybody  else.  In 
unnumbered  kitchens  the  breakfast  fire  is  kindling,  but  not  yet,  in 
any  except  the  market  restaurants,  is  a  cup  of  coffee  attainable. 
Tin  very  groggeries — strange  to  see — are  closed.  Apparently,  the 


302  DAY   AND    NIGHT   IN   THE   TRIBUNE    OFFICE. 

last  drunkard  Las  toppled  home,  and  the  last  debauchee  has  skulked 
like  a  thieving  hound  to  his  own  bed ;  for  the  wickedness  of  the 
night  has  been  done,  and  the  work  of  the  day  is  beginning. 
There  is  something  in  the  aspect  of  the  city  at  this  hour — the  stars 
glittering  over-head — the  long  lines  of  gas-lights  that  stretch  away 
in  every  direction — the  few  wayfarers  stealing  in  and  out  among 
them  in  silence,  like  spirits — the  myriad  sign-boards  so  staring  now, 
and  useless — the  houses  all  magnified  in  the  imperfect  light— so 
many  evidences  of  intense  life  around,  and  yet  so  little  of  life  vis 
ibly  present— which,  to  one  who  sees  it  for  the  first  time  (and  few 
of  us  have  ever  seen  it),  is  strangely  impressive. 

The  Tribune  building  is  before  us.  It  looks  as  we  never  saw  it 
look  before.  The  office  is  closed,  and  a  gas-light  dimly  burning 
shows  that  no  one  is  in  it.  The  dismal  inky  aperture  in  Spruce 
street  by  which  the  upper  regions  of  the  Tribune  den  are  usually 
reached  is  shut,  and  the  door  is  locked.  That  glare  of  light  which 
on  all  previous  nocturnal  walks  we  have  seen  illuminating  the 
windows  of  the  third  and  fourth  stories,  revealing  the  bobbing  com 
positor  in  his  paper  cap,  and  the  bustling  night-editor  making  up 
his  news,  shines  not  at  this  hour;  and  those  windows  are  undistin 
guished  from  the  lustreless  ones  of  the  houses  adjacent.  Coiled  up 
on  the  steps,  stretched  out  on  the  pavement,  are  half  a  dozen 
sleeping  newsboys.  Two  or  three  others  are  awake  and  up,  of 
whom  one  is  devising  and  putting  into  practice  various  modes  of 
suddenly  waking  the  sleepers.  He  rolls  one  off  the  step  to  the 
pavement,  the  shock  of  which  is  very  effectual.  He  deals  another 
who  lies  temptingly  exposed,  a  4  loud-resounding'  slap,  which 
brings  the  slumberer  to  his  feet,  and  to  his  fists,  in  an  instant.  Into 
the  ear  of  a  third  he  yells  the  magic  word  Fire,  a  word  which 
the  New  York  newsboy  never  hears  with  indifference ;  the  sleeper 
starts  up,  but  perceiving  the  trick,  growls  a  curse  or  two,  and  ad 
dresses  himself  again  to  sleep.  In  a  few  minutes  all  the  boys  are 
awake,  and  taking  their  morning  /xercise  of  scuffling.  The  base 
ment  of  the  building,  we  observe,  is  all  a-glow  with  light,  though 
the  clanking  of  the  press  is  silent.  The  carrier's  entrance  is  open, 
and  we  descend  into  the  fiery  bowels  of  the  street. 

We  are  in  the  Tribune's  press-room.  It  is  a  large,  low,  cellar-like 
apartment,  unceiled,  white-washed,  inky,  and  unclean,  with  a  vast 


MORNING    SCENE    IN    THE    PRESS    ROOM.  393 

folding  table  in  tlie  middle,  tall  heaps  of  dampened  paper  all  aboat, 
a  quietly-running  steam  engine  of  nine-horse  power  on  one  side, 
twenty-five  inky  men  and  boys  variously  employed,  and  the  whole 
brilliantly  lighted  up  by  jets  of  gas,  numerous  and  flaring.  On  one 
side  is  a  kind  of  desk  or  pulpit,  with  a  table  before  it,  and  the 
whole  separated  from  the  rest  of  the  apartment  by  a  rail.  In  the 
pulpit,  the  night-clerk  stands,  counts  and  serves  out  the  papers, 
with  a  nonchalant  and  graceful  rapidity,  that  must  be  seen  to  be 
appreciated.  The  regular  carriers  were  all  served  an  hour  ago ; 
they  have  folded  their  papers  and  gone  their  several  ways ;  and 
early  risers,  two  miles  off,  have  already  read  the  news  of  the  day. 
The  later  newsboys,  now,  keep  dropping  in,  singly,  or  in  squads  of 
three  or  four,  each  with  his  money  ready  in  his  hand.  Usually,  no 
words  pass  between  them  and  the  clerk;  he  either  knows  how 
many  papers  they  have  come  for,  or  they  show  him  by  exhibiting 
their  money ; "and  in  three  seconds  after  his  eye  lights  upon  a  newly- 
arrived  dirty  face,  he  has  counted  the  requisite  number  of  papers, 
counted  the  money  for  them,  and  thrown  the  papers  in  a  heap  into 
the  boy's  arms,  who  slings  them  over  his  shoulder  and  hurries  off 
for  his  supply  of  Times  and  Heralds.  Occasionally  a  woman  comes 
in  for  a  few  papers,  or  a  little  girl,  or  a  boy  so  small  that  he  cannot 
see  over  the  low  rail  in  front  of  the  clerk,  and  is  obliged  to  an 
nounce  his  presence  and  his  desires  by  holding  above  it  his  little 
cash  capital  in  his  little  black  paw.  In  another  part  of  the  press 
room,  a  dozen  or  fifteen  boys  are  folding  papers  for  the  early  mails, 
and  folding  them  at  the  average  rate  of  thirty  a  minute.  A  boy 
lias  folded  sixty  papers  a  minute  in  that  press-room.  Each  paper 
has  to  be  folded  six  times,  and  then  laid  evenly  on  the  pile ;  and 
the  velocity  of  movement  required  for  the  performance  of  such  a 
minute's  work,  the  reader  can  have  no  idea  of  till  he  sees  it  done. 
As  a  feat,  nothing  known  to  the  sporting  world  approaches  it.  The 
huge  presses,  that  shed  six  printed  leaves  at  a  stroke,  are  in  deep 
vaults  adjoining  the  press-room.  They  are  motionless  now,  but  the 
gas  that  has  lighted  them  during  their  morning's  work  still  spurts 
out  in  flame  all  over  them,  and  men  with  blue  shirts  and  black 
faces  are  hoisting  out  the  *  forms  '  that  have  stamped  their  story  on 
thirty  thousand  sheets.  The  vaults  are  oily,  inky,  and  warm.  Let 
us  ascend. 

17* 


394  DAY   AND    NIGHT   IN    THE    TRIBUNE    OFFICE. 

The  day  has  dawned.  As  we  approach  the  stairs  that  lead  to  the 
upper  stories,  we  get  a  peep  into  a  small,  paved  yard,  where  a 
group  of  pressmen,  blue-overniled,  ink-smeared,  and  pale,  are  wash 
ing  themselves  and  the  ink-rollers  ;  and  looking,  in  the  dim  light  of 
the  morning,  like  writhing  devils.  The  stairs  of  the  Tribune  building 
are  supposed  to  bo  the  dirtiest  in  the  world.  By  their  assistance, 
however,  we  wind  our  upward  way,  past  the  editorial  rooms  in  the 
third  story,  which  are  locked,  to  the  composing-room  in  the  fourth, 
which  are  open,  and  in  which  the  labor  of  transposing  the  news  of 
the  morning  to  the  form  of  the  weekly  paper  is  in  progress.  Only 
two  men  are  present,  the  foreman,  Mr.  Rooker,  and  one  of  his  assist 
ants.  Neither  of  them  wish  to  be  spoken  to,  as  their  minds  are 
occupied  with  a  task  that  requires  care ;  but  we  are  at  liberty  to 
look  around. 

The  composing-room  of  the  Tribune  is,  I  believe,  the  most  con 
venient,  complete,  and  agreeable  one  in  the  country.  It  is  very 
spacious,  nearly  square,  lighted  by  windows  on  two  sides,  and  by 
sky-lights  from  above.  It  presents  an  ample  expanse  of  type-fonts, 
gas-jets  with  large  brown-paper  shades  above  them,  long  tables 
covered  with  columns  of  bright,  copper-faced  type,  either  'dead' 
or  waiting  its  turn  for  publication ;  and  whatever  else  appertains  to 
the  printing  of  a  newspaper.  Stuffed  into  corners  and  interstices 
are  aprons  and  slippers  in  curious  variety.  Pasted  on  the  walls, 
lamp-shades,  and  doors,  we  observe  a  number  of  printed  notices, 
from  the  perusal  of  which,  aided  by  an  occasional  word  from  the 
obliging  foreman,  we  are  enabled  to  penetrate  the  mystery,  and 
comprehend  the  routine,  of  the  place. 

Here,  for  example,  near  the  middle  of  the  apartment,  are  a  row 
of  hooks,  labeled  respectively,  'Leaded  Brevier;'  'Solid  Brevier;' 
'Minion;'  'Proofs  to  revise;'  'Compositors'  Proofs — let  no  profane 
hand  touch  them  except  Smith's ;' '  Bogus  minion — when  there  is 
no  other  copy  to  be  given  out,  then  take  from  this  hook.'  Upon 
these  hooks,  the  foreman  hangs  the  '  copy '  as  he  receives  it  from 
below,  and  the  men  take  it  in  turn,  requiring  no  further  direction 
as  to  the  kind  of  type  into  which  it  is  to  be  set.  The  '  bogus-rnin- 
ion '  hook  contains  matter  not  intended  to  be  used ;  it  is  designed 
merely  to  keep  the  men  constantly  employed,  so  as  to  obviate  the 
necessity  of  their  making  petty  charges  for  lost  time,  and  thus  com* 


THE    TRIBUNE    DIRECTORY.  395 

plicating  their  accounts.  Below  the  'bogus-hook,'  there  appears 
this  *  Particular  Notice :'  '  This  copy  must  bo  set,  and  the  Takes 
emptied,  with  the  same  care  as  the  rest.'  From  which  we  may  in 
fer,  that  a  man  is  inclined  to  slight  work  that  he  knows  to  be  use 
less,  even  though  it  be  paid  for  at  the  usual  price  per  thousand. 

Another  printed  paper  lets  us  into  another  secret.  It  is  a  list  of  the 
compositors  employed  in  the  office,  divided  into  four  "  Phalanxes"  of 
about  ten  men  each,  a  highly  advantageous  arrangement,  devised  by 
Mr.  Booker.  At  night,  when  the  copy  begins  to  "  slack  up,"  i.  e. 
when  the  work  of  the  night  approaches  completion,  one  phalanx  is 
dismissed ;  then  another ;  then  another ;  then  the  last ;  and  the 
phalanx  which  leaves  first  at  night  comes  first  in  the  morning,  and 
so  on.  The  men  who  left  work  at  eleven  o'clock  at  night  must  be 
again  in  the  office  at  nine,  to  distribute  type  and  set  up  news  for  the 
evening  edition  of  the  paper.  The  second  phalanx  begins  work  at 
two,  the  third  at  five ;  and  at  seven  the  whole  company  must  be  at 
their  posts;  for,  at  seven,  the  business  of  the  night  begins  in  earnest. 
Printers  will  have  their  joke — as  appears  from  this  list.  It  is  set  in 
double  columns,  and  as  the  number  of  men  happened  to  be  an  un 
even  one,  one  name  was  obliged  to  occupy  a  line  by  itself,  and  it 
appears  thus — u  Baker,  (the  teat-pig.)" 

The  following  notice  deserves  attention  from  the  word  with  which 
it  begins :  "  Gentlemen  desiring  to  wash  and  soak  their  distributing 
matter  will  please  use  hereafter  the  metal  galleys  I  had  cast  for  the 
purpose,  as  it  is  ruinous  to  galleys  having  wooden  sides  to  keep  wet 
type  in  them  locked  up.  Thos.  N.  Rooker."  It  took  the  world  an 
unknown  number  of  thousand  years  to  arrive  at  that  word  '  GEN 
TLEMEN.'  Indeed,  the  world  has  not  arrived  at  it ;  but  there  it  is,  in 
the  composing-room  of  the  New  York  Tribune,  legible  to  all  visitors. 

Passing  by  other  notices,  such  as  "  Attend  to  the  gas-meter  on 
Wednesdays  and  Saturdays,  and  to  the  clock  on  Monday  morning,'* 
we  may  spend  a  minute  or  two  in  looking  over  a  long  printed  cata 
logue,  posted  on  the  door,  entitled,  "  Tribune  Directory.  Corrected 
May  10,  1854.  A  list  of  Editors,  Reporters,  Publishers,  Clerks, 
Compositors,  Proof-Readers,  Pressmen,  &c.,  employed  on  the  New 
York  Tribune." 

From  this  Directory  one  may  learn  that  the  Editor  of  the  Tribune 
is  Horace  Greeley,  the  Managing-Editor  Charles  A.  Dana,  the  Asso- 


396  DAY   AND    NIGHT   IN    THE   TRIBUNE    OFFICE. 

cinte-Editors,  James  S.  Pike,  William  II.  Fry,  George  Ripley,  George 
M.  Snow,  Bayard  Taylor,  F.  J.  Ottarson,  William  Newman,  B.  Brock 
way,  Solon  Robinson,  and  Donald  0.  Henderson.  We  perceive  also 
that  Mr.  Ottarson  is  the  City  Editor,  and  that  his  assistants  are  in 
number  fourteen.  One  of  these  keeps  an  eye  on  the  Police,  chron 
icles  arrests,  walks  the  hospitals  in  search  of  dreadful  accidents,  and 
keeps  the  public  advised  of  the  state  of  its  health.  Three  report 
lectures  and  speeches.  Another  gathers  items  of  intelligence  in 
Jersey  City,  Newark,  and  parts  adjacent.  Others  do  the  same  in 
Brooklyn  and  Williamsburgh.  One  gentleman  devotes  himself  to 
the  reporting  of  fires,  and  the  movements  of  the  military.  Two 
examine  and  translate  from  the  New  York  papers  which  are  pub 
lished  in  the  German,  French,  Italian  and  Spanish  languages.  Then, 
there  is  a  Law  Reporter,  a  Police  Court  Reporter,  and  a  Collector 
of  Marine  Intelligence.  Proceeding  down  the  formidable  catalogue, 
we  discover  that  the  l  Marine  Bureau'  (in  common  with  the  Asso 
ciated  Press)  is  under  the  charge  of  Commodore  John  T.  Hall,  who 
is  assisted  by  twelve  agents  and  reporters.  Besides  these,  the  Tri 
bune  has  a  special  '  Ship  News  Editor.'  The  *  Telegraphic  Bureau* 
(also  in  common  with  the  Associated  Press)  employs  one  general 
agent  and  two  subordinates,  (one  at  Liverpool  and  one  at  Halifax,) 
and  fifty  reporters  in  various  parts  of  the  country.  The  number  of 
regular  and  paid  correspondents  is  thirty-eight — eighteen  foreign, 
twenty  home.  The  remaining  force  of  the  Tribune,  as  we  are  in 
formed  b}r  the  Directory,  is,  Thos.  M'Elrath,  chief  of  the  depart 
ment  of  publication,  assisted  by  eight  clerks;  Thos.  N.  Rooker,  fore 
man  of  the  composing-room,  with  eight  assistant-foremen  (three  by 
day,  five  by  night),  thirty-eight  regular  compositors,  and  twenty- 
five  substitutes;  George  Hall,  foreman  of  the  press-room,  with  three 
assistants,  sixteen  feeders,  twenty-five  folders,  three  wrapper- writers, 
and  three  boys.  Besides  these,  there  are  four  proof-readers,  and  a 
number  of  miscellaneous  individuals.  It  thus  appears  that  the 
whole  number  of  persons  employed  upon  the  paper  is  about  two 
hundred  and  twenty,  of  whom  about  one  hundred  and  thirty  devote 
to  it  their  whole  time.  The  Directory  further  informs  us  that  the 
proprietors  of  the  establishment  are  sixteen  in  number — namely, 
seven  editors,  the  publisher,  four  clerks,  the  foreman  of  the  compos- 


A   GLANCE    AT   THE   Jt*APER.  397 

ing-coom,  the  foreman  of  the  press-room,  one  compositor  and  one 
press-man. 

Except  for  a  few  hours  on  Saturday  afternoon  and  Sunday  morn 
ing,  the  work  of  a  daily  paper  never  entirely  ceases ;  but,  at  this 
hour  of  the  day,  between  six  and  seven  o'clock,  it  does  nearly 
cease.  The  editors  are  still,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  asleep.  The  compos 
itors  have  been  in  bed  for  two  hours  or  more.  The  pressmen  of 
the  night  are  going  home,  and  those  of  the  day  have  not  arrived. 
The  carriers  have  gone  their  rounds.  The  youngest  clerks  have  not 
yet  appeared  in  the  office.  All  but  the  slowest  of  the  newsboys 
have  got  their  supply  of  papers,  and  are  making  the  streets  and  fer- 
ries  vocal,  or  vociferous,  with  their  well-known  names.  There  is  a 
general  lull ;  and  while  that  lull  continues,  we  shall  lose  nothing  by 
going  to  breakfast. 

Part  of  which  is  the  New  York  Tribune ;  and  we  may  linger 
over  it  a  little  longer  than  usual  this  morning. 

It  does  not  look  like  it,  but  it  is  a  fact,  as  any  one  moderately  en 
dowed  with  arithmetic  can  easily  ascertain,  that  one  number  of  the 
Tribune,  if  it  were  printed  in  the  form  of  a  book,  with  liberal  type 
and  spacing,  would  make  a  duodecimo  volume  of  four  hundred 
pages — a  volume,  in  fact,  not  much  less  in  magnitude  than  the  one 
which  the  reader  has,  at  this  moment,  the  singular  happiness  of 
perusing.  Each  number  is  the  result  of,  at  least,  two  hundred  days' 
work,  or  the  work  of  two  hundred  men  for  one  day ;  and  it  is  sold 
(to  carriers  and  newsboys)  for  one  cent  and  a  half.  Lucifer  matches, 
at  forty-four  cents  for  a  hundred  and  forty-four  boxes,  are  supposed, 
and  justly,  to  be  a  miracle  of  cheapness.  Pins  are  cheap,  consider 
ing  ;  and  so  are  steel  pens.  But  the  cheapest  thing  yet  realized  un 
der  the  sun  is  the  New  York  Tribune. 

The  number  for  this  morning  contains  six  hundred  and  forty-one 
separate  articles — from  two-line  advertisements  to  two-column  es 
says — of  which  five  hundred  and  ten  are  advertisements,  the  re 
mainder,  one  hundred  and  thirty-one,  belonging  to  the  various  de 
partments  of  reading  matter.  The  reading  matter,  however,  occu 
pies  about  one  half  of  the  whole  space — nearly  four  of  the  eight 
broad  pages,  nearly  twenty-four  of  the  forty-eight  columns.  The 
articles  and  paragraphs  which  must  have  been  written  for  this  num 
ber,  yesterday,  or  very  recently,  in  the  office  or  at  the  editors'  resi« 


398  DAY    AND    NIGHT   IN    THE    TRIBUNE    OFFICE. 

elences,  fill  thirteen  columns,  equal  to  a  hundred  pages  of  foolscap^ 
or  eighty  such  pages  as  this.  There  are  five  columns  of  telegraphic 
intelligence,  which  is,  porhaps,  two  columns  above  the  average. 
There  are  twelve  letters  from  '  our  own'  and  voluntary  correspond 
ents,  of  which  five  are  from  foreign  countries  There  have  been  aa 
many  as  thirty  letters  in  one  number  of  the  Tribune  ;  there  are  sel 
dom  less  than  ten. 

What  has  the  Tribune  of  this  morning  to  say  to  us  ?     Let  us  see. 

It  is  often  asked,  who  reads  advertisements?  and  the  question  is 
often  inconsiderately  answered,  'Nobody.'  But,  idle  reader,  if  you 
were  in  search  of  a  boarding-house  this  morning,  these  two  columns 
of  advertisements,  headed  'Board  and  Rooms,'  would  be  read  by  you 
with  the  liveliest  interest ;  and  so,  in  other  circumstances,  would 
those  which  reveal  a  hundred  and  fifty  '  Wants,'  twenty -two  places 
)f  amusement,  twenty-seven  new  publications,  forty-two  schools, 
ind  thirteen  establishments  where  the  best  pianos  in  existence  are 
made.  If  you  had  come  into  the  possession  of  a  fortune  yesterday, 
this  column  of  bank-dividend  announcements  would  not  be  passed 
by  with  indifference.  And  if  you  were  the  middle-aged  gentleman 
who  advertises  his  desire  to  open  a  correspondence  with  a  young 
lady  (all  communications  post-paid  and  tho  strictest  secresy  ob 
served),  you  might  peruse  with  anxiety  these  seven  advertisements 
of  hair-dye,  each  of  which  is  either  infallible,  unapproachable,  or 
the  acknowledged  best.  And  the  eye  of  the  'young  lady'  who  ad 
dresses  you  a  post-paid  communication  in  reply,  informing  you 
where  an  interview  may  be  had,  would  perhaps  rest  for  a  moment 
upon  the  description  of  the  new  Baby-Walker,  with  some  compla 
cency.  If  the  negotiation  were  successful,  it  were  difficult  to  say 
what  column  of  advertisements  would  not,  in  its  turn,  become  of 
the  highest  interest  to  one  or  the  other,  or  both  of  you.  In  truth, 
every  one  reads  the  advertisements  which  concern  them. 

The  wonders  of  the  telegraph  are  not  novel,  and,  therefore,  they 
seem  wonderful  no  longer.  We  glance  up  and  down  the  columns 
of  telegraphic  intelligence,  and  read  without  the  slightest  emotion, 
dispatches  from  Michigan,  Halifax,  Washington,  Baltimore,  Cincin 
nati,  Boston,  Cleveland,  St.  Louis,  New  Orleans,  and  a  dozen  places 
nearer  the  city,  some  of  which  give  us  news  of  events  that  hud  not 
oo  'irred  when  we  went  to  bed  last  night.  The  telegraphic  news  of 


THE  DEPARTMENTS  OF  THE  PAPER.  399 

this  morning  has  run  along  four  thousand  seven  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  of  wire,  and  its  transmission,  at  the  puhlished  rates,  must  have 
cost  between  two  and  three  hundred  dollars.  On  one  occasion,  re 
cently,  the  steamer  arrived  at  Halifax  at  half-past  eleven  in  the  eve 
ning,  and  the  substance  of  her  news  was  contained  in  the  New  York 
papers  the  next  morning,  and  probably  in  the  papers  of  New  Or 
leans.  A  debate  which  concludes  in  Washington  at  midnight,  is  read 
in  Fiftieth  street,  New  York,  six  hours  after.  But  these  are  stale 
marvels,  and  they  are  received  by  us  entirely  as  a  matter  of  course. 

The  City  department  of  the  paper,  conducted  with  uncommon 
efficiency  by  Mr.  Ottarson,  gives  us  this  morning,  in  sufficient  detail, 
the  proceedings  of  a  '  Demonstration'  at  Tammany  Hall — of  a  meet 
ing  of  the  Bible  Union — a  session  of  the  committee  investigating 
the  affairs  of  Columbia  college — a  meeting  to  devise  measures  for 
the  improvement  of  the  colored  population — a  temperance  'Demon 
stration1— a  session  of  the  Board  of  Aldermen — a  meeting  of  the 
commissioners  of  emigration — and  one  of  the  commissioners  of  ex 
cise.  A  trial  for  murder  is  reported ;  the  particulars  of  seven  fires 
are  stated  ;  the  performance  of  the  opera  is  noticed ;  the  progress  of 
the  '  State  Fair '  is  chronicled,  and  there  are  thirteen  '  city  items.' 
And  what  is  most  surprising  is,  that  seven-tenths  of  the  city  mat 
ter  must  have  been  prepared  in  the  evening,  for  most  of  the  events 
narrated  did  not  occur  till  after  dark. 

The  Law  Intelligence  includes  brief  notices  of  the  transactions  of 
five  courts.  The  Commercial  Intelligence  gives  minute  informa 
tion  respecting  the  demand  for,  the  supply  of,  the  price,  and  the  re 
cent  sales,  of  twenty-one  leading  articles  of  trade.  The  Marino 
Journal  takes  note  of  the  sailing  and  arrival  of  two  hundred  and 
seven  vessels,  with  the  name  of  the  captain,  owners  and  consign 
ees.  This  is,  in  truth,  the  most  astonishing  department  of  a  daily 
paper.  Arranged  under  the  heads  of  "  Cleared,"  "  Arrived,"  "Dis 
asters,"  "  To  mariners,"  "  Spoken,"  "  Whalers,"  "  Foreign  Ports," 
"Domestic  Ports,"  "Passengers  sailed,"  "Passengers  arrived,"  it 
presents  daily  a  mass  and  a  variety  of  facts,  which  do  not  astound 
us,  only  because  we  see  the  wonder  daily  repeated.  Nor  is  the 
shipping  intelligence  a  mere  catalogue  of  names,  places  and  figures* 
Witness  these  sentences  cut  almost  at  random  from  the  dense  col- 
limns  of  small  type  in  which  the  affairs  of  the  sea  are  printed : 


400  DAY   AND    NIGHT   IN   THE    TRIBUNE    OFFICE. 

"Bark  Gen.  Jones,  (of  Boston,)  Hodgden,  London  47  days,  chalk  to  E.  S. 
Belknap  &  Sons.  Aug.  14,  lat.  50°  11',  Ion.  9°  20',  spoke  ship  Merensa,  of  Boa 
ton,  19  days  from  Eastport  for  London.  Aug.  19,  signalized  a  ship  showing 
Nos.  55,  31,  steering  E.  Aug.  20,  signalized  ship  Isaac  Allerton,  of  New  York. 
Sept.  1,  spoke  Br.  Emerald,  and  supplied  her  with  some  provisions.  Sept.  13, 
lat.  43°  36',  Ion.  49°  54',  passed  a  number  of  empty  barrels  and  broken  pieces  of 
oars.  Sept.  13,  lat  43°,  long  50°  40',  while  lying  to  in  a  gale,  passed  a  vessel's 
spars  and  broken  pieces  of  bulwarks,  painted  black  and  white ;  supposed  the 
ppars  to  be  a  ship's  topmasts.  Sept.  19,  lat.  41°  14',  Ion.  56°,  signalized  a  bark 
showing  a  red  signal  with  a  white  spot  in  center." 

As  no  one  not  interested  in  marine  affairs  ever  bestows  a  glance 
upon  this  part  of  his  daily  paper,  these  condensed  tragedies  of  the 
sea  will  be  novel  to  the  general  reader.  To  compile  the  ship-news 
of  this  single  morning,  the  log-books  of  twenty-seven  vessels  must 
have  been  examined,  and  information  obtained  by  letter,  telegraph, 
or  exchange  papers,  from  ninety-three  sea-port  towns,  of  which  thir 
ty  T-one  are  in  foreign  countries.  Copied  here,  it  would  fill  thirty-five 
pages,  and  every  line  of  it  was  procured  yesterday. 

The  money  article  of  the  Tribune,  to  those  who  have  any  money, 
is  highly  interesting.  It  chronicles,  to-day,  the  sales  of  stocks,  the 
price  of  exchange  and  freight,  the  arrivals  and  departures  of  gold, 
the  condition  of  the  sub-treasury,  the  state  of  the  coal-trade  and 
other  mining  interests,  and  ends  with  gossip  and  argument  about 
the  Schuyler  frauds.  There  is  a  vast  amount  of  labor  condensed 
in  the  two  columns  which  the  money  article  usually  occupies. 

The  Tribune,  from  the  beginning  of  its  career,  has  kept  a  vigilant 
eye  upon  passing  literature.  Its  judgments  have  great  weight  with 
the  reading  public.  They  are  always  pronounced  with,  at  least,  an 
air  of  deliberation.  They  are  always  able,  generally  just,  occasion 
ally  cruel,  more  frequently  too  kind.  In  this  department,  taking 
into  account  the  quantity  of  information  given — both  of  home  and 
foreign  literature,  of  books  published  and  of  books  to  be  published 
— and  the  talent  and  knowledge  displayed  in  its  notices  and  reviews, 
the  superiority  of  the  Tribune  to  any  existing  daily  paper  is  simply 
undeniable.  Articles  occasionally  appear  in  the  London  journals, 
written  after  every  other  paper  has  expressed  its  judgment,- written 
at  ample  leisure  and  by  men  pre-eminent  in  the  one  branch  of  let 
ters  to  which  the  reviewed  book  belongs,  which  are  superior  to  the 
reviews  of  the  Tribune.  It  is  the  literary  department  of  the  paper. 


EDITORIAL   ARTICLES.  401 

for  which  superiority  is  here  asserted.  To-day,  it  happens,  that  the 
paper  contains  nothing  literary.  In  a  daily  paper,  news  has  the 
precedence  of  everything,  and  a  review  of  an  epic  greater  than 
Paradise  Lost  might  be  crowded  out  by  the  report  of  an  election 
brawl  in  the  Sixth  Ward.  Thus,  a  poor  author  is  often  kept  in  trem 
bling  suspense  for  days,  or  even  weeks,  waiting  for  the  review 
which  he  erroneously  thinks  will  make  or  mar  him. 

Like  People,  like  Priest,  says  the  old  maxim ;  which  we  maj 
amend  by  saying,  Like  Editor,  like  Correspondent.  From  these 
'Letters  from  the  People,'  we  infer,  that  when  a  man  has  something 
to  say  to  the  public,  of  a  reformatory  or  humanitary  nature,  he  is 
prone  to  indite  an  epistle  '  to  the  Editor  of  the  New  York  Tribune,' 
who,  on  his  part,  in  tenderness  to  the  public,  is  exceedingly  prone 
to  consign  it  to  the  basket  of  oblivion.  A  good  many  of  these  let 
ters,  however,  escape  into  print — to-day,  four,  on  some  days  a  dozen. 
The  London  letters  of  the  Tribune  are  written  in  London,  the  Paris 
letters  in  Paris,  the  Timbuctoo  letters  in  Timbuctoo.  This  is  strange, 
but  true. 

In  its  editorial  department,  the  Tribune  has  two  advantages  over 
most  of  its  contemporaries.  In  the  first  place,  it  has  an  object  of 
attack,  the  slave  power ;  and  secondly,  by  a  long  course  of  warfare, 
it  has  won  the  conceded  privilege  of  being  sincere.  Any  one  who 
has  had  to  do  with  the  press,  is  aware,  that  articles  in  newspapers 
are  of  two  kinds,  namely,  those  which  are  written  for  a  purpose 
not  avowed,  and  those  which  are  written  spontaneously,  from  the 
impulse  and  convictions  of  the  writer's  own  mind.  And  any  one 
who  has  written  articles  of  both  descriptions  is  aware,  further,  that  a 
man  who  is  writing  with  perfect  sincerity,  writing  with  a  pure  de 
sire  to  move,  interest,  or  convince,  writes  better,  than  when  the 
necessities  of  his  vocation  compel  him  to  grind  the  axe  for  a  party, 
or  an  individual.  There  is  more  or  less  of  axe-grinding  done  in 
every  newspaper  office  in  the  world ;  and  a  perfectly  independent 
newspaper  never  existed.  Take,  for  example,  the  London  Times, 
which  is  claimed  to  be  the  most  incorruptible  of  journals.  The 
writers  for  the  Times  are  trammeled,  first,  by  the  immense  position 
of  the  paper7  which  give*  to  its  leading  articles  a  possible  influence 
upon  the  affairs  of  the  world.  The  aim  of  the  writer  is  to  express, 
not  hiui.se1  f,  but  ENGLAND;  as  the  Times  is,  in  other  countries,  the 


i02  DAY    AND    NIGHT    IN    THE    TRIBUNE    OFFICE. 

recognized  voice  of  the  British  Empire ;  and  it  is  this  which  ren 
ders  much  of  the  writing  in  the  Times  as  safe,  as  vague,  and  as 
pointless,  as  a  diplomatist's  dispatch.  The  Times  is  further  train 
meled  by  the  business  necessity  of  keeping  on  terms  with  those 
who  have  it  in  their  power  to  give  and  withhold  important  intelli 
gence.  And,  still  further,  by  the  fact,  that  general  England,  whom 
it  addresses,  is  not  up  to  the  liberality  of  the  age — in  which  the 
leading  minds  alone  fully  participate.  Thus,  it  happens,  that  the 
articles  in  a  paper  like  The  Leader,  which  reaches  only  the  liberal 
class,  are  often  more  pointed,  more  vigorous,  more  interesting,  than 
those  of  the  Times,  though  the  resources  of  the  Leader  are  extremely 
limited,  and  the  Times  can  have  its  pick  of  the  wit,  talent,  and  learn 
ing  of  the  empire.  When  a  man  writes  with  perfect  freedom,  then, 
and  only  then,  he  writes  his  lest.  Without  claiming  for  the  Tri 
bune  a  perfect  innocence  of  axe-grinding,  it  may  with  truth  be  said, 
that  the  power  of  its  leading  editorial  articles  is  vastly  increased  by 
the  fact,  that  those  who  write  them,  do  so  with  as  near  an  approach 
to  perfect  freedom,  i.  e.  sincerity,  as  the  nature  of  newspaper-writ 
ing,  at  present,  admits  of.  What  it  gains,  too,  in  spirit  and  interest 
by  having  the  preposterous  inaptitude  of  the  Southern  press  to  rid 
icule,  and  the  horrors  of  Southern  brutality  to  denounce,  is  suffi 
ciently  known. 

But  it  is  time  we  returned  to  the  office.  It  is  ten  o'clock  in  the 
morning.  The  clerks  in  the  office  are  at  their  posts,  receiving  nd- 
vertisements,  recording  them,  entering  the  names  of  new  subscrib 
ers  received  by  the  morning's  mail,  of  which  on  some  mornings  of 
the  year  there  are  hundreds.  It  is  a  busy  scene. 

Up  the  dismal  stairs  to  a  dingy  door  in  the  third  story,  upon 
which  we  read,  "  Editorial  Rooms  of  the  New  York  Tribune.  II. 
Greeley."  We  ought  not  to  be  allowed  to  enter,  but  we  are,  and 
we  do ;  no  one  hinders  us,  or  even  notices  our  entrance.  First,  a 
narrow  passage,  with  two  small  rooms  on  the  left,  whence,  later  in 
the  day,  the  rapid  hum  of  proof-reading  issues  unceasingly,  one  man 
reading  the  'copy'  aloud,  another  having  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  slip 
of  proof.  One  may  insert  his  visage  into  the  square  aperture  in  the 
doors  of  these  minute  apartments,  and  gaze  upon  the  performance 
with  persistent  impertinence  ;  but  the  proof-reading  goes  on,  like  a 
machine.  At  this  hour,  however,  these  rooms  contain  no  one.  A 


THE    EDITORIAL    ROOMS.  403 

few  steps,  and  the  principal  Editorial  Room  is  before  us.  It  is  a 
long,  narrow  apartment,  with  desks  for  tho  principal  editors  along 
the  sides,  with  shelves  well-loaded  with  books  and  manuscripts,  a 
great  heap  of  exchange  papers  in  the  midst,  and  a  file  of  the  Tri 
bune  on  a  broad  desk,  slanting  from  the  wall.  Everything  is  in 
real  order,  but  apparent  confusion,  and  the  whole  is  '  blended  in  a 
common  element  of  dust.'  Nothing  particular  appears  to  be  going 
on.  Two  or  three  gentlemen  are  looking  over  the  papers ;  but  the 
desks  are  all  vacant,  and  each  has  upon  its  lid  a  pile  of  letters  and 
papers  awaiting  the  arrival  of  him  to  whose  department  they  be 
long.  One  desk  presents  an  array  of  new  publications  that  might 
well  appal  the  most  industrious  critic — twenty-four  new  books, 
seven  magazines,  nine  pamphlets,  and  two  new  papers,  all  expect 
ing  a  '  first-rate  notice.'  At  the  right,  we  observe  another  and 
smaller  room,  with  a  green  carpet,  two  desks,  a  sofa,  and  a  large 
book-case,  filled  with  books  of  reference.  This  is  the  sanctum  sanc 
torum.  The  desk  near  the  window,  that  looks  out  upon  the  green 
Park,  the  white  City  Hall  in  the  midst  thereof,  and  the  lines  of 
moving  life  that  bound  the  same,  is  the  desk  of  the  Editor-in-Chief. 
It  presents  confusion  merely.  The  shelves  are  heaped  with  manu 
scripts,  books,  and  pamphlets ;  its  lid  is  covered  with  clippings  from 
newspapers,  each  containing  something  supposed  by  the  assiduous 
exchange-reader  to  be  of  special  interest  to  the  Editor ;  and  over 
all,  on  the  highest  shelf,  near  the  ceiling,  stands  a  large  bronze  bust 
of  Henry  Clay,  wearing  a  crown  of  dust.  The  other  desk,  near  the 
door,  belongs  to  the  second  in  command.  It  is  in  perfect  order. 
A  heap  of  foreign  letters,  covered  with  stamps  and  post-marks, 
awaits  his  coming.  The  row  of  huge,  musty  volumes  along  the 
floor  against  one  of  the  walls  of  the  room,  is  a  complete  file  of  tho 
Tribune,  with  some  odd  volumes  of  the  New  Yorker  and  Log 
Cajin. 

An  hour  later.  One  by  one  the  editors  arrive.  Solon  Robinson, 
looking,  with  his  flowing  white  beard  and  healthy  countenance,  like 
a  good-humored  Prophet  Isaiah,  or  a  High  Priest  in  undress,  has 
dropped  into  his  corner,  and  is  compiling,  from  letters  and  newspa 
pers,  a  column  of  paragraphs  touching  the  effect  of  the  drouth 
upon  the  potato  crop.  Bayard  Taylor  is  reading  a  paper  in  the 
American  attitude.  His  countenance  has  quite  lost  tho  Nubian 


104  DAY   AND    NIGHT   IN    THE    1RIBUNE    OFFICE. 

bronze  with  which  it  darkened  on  the  banks  of  the  White  Nile,  as 
well  as  the  Japanning  which  his  last  excursion  gave  it.  Pale,  deli 
cate-featured,  with  a  curling  beard  and  subdued  moustache,  slight 
in  figure,  and  dressed  with  care,  he  has  as  little  the  aspect  of  an  ad 
venturous  traveler,  and  as  much  the  air  of  a  nice  young  gentleman, 
as  can  be  imagined.  He  may  read  in  peace,  for  he  is  not  now  one 
of  the  '  hack-horses'  of  the  daily  press.  The  tall,  pale,  intense- 
looking  gentleman  who  is  slowly  pacing  the  carpet  of  the  inner 
sanctum  is  Mr.  William  H  Fry,  the  composer  of  Leonora.  At  thia 
moment  he  is  thinking  out  thunder  for  to-morrow's  Tribune.  Wil 
liam  Henry  Fry  is  one  of  the  noblest  fellows  alive — a  hater  of 
meanness  and  wrong,  a  lover  of  man  and  right,  with  a  power  of 
expression  equal  to  the  intensity  of  his  hate  and  the  enthusiasm  of 
his  love.  There  is  more  merit  in  his  little  finger  than  in  a  whole 
mass-meeting  of  Douglass-senators  ;  and  from  any  but  a  grog-ruled 
city  he  would  have  been  sent  to  Congress  long  ago ;  but  perhaps, 
as  Othello  remarks,  '  it  is  better  as  it  is.'  Mr.  Ripley,  who  came  in 
a  few  minutes  ago,  and  sat  down  before  that  marshaled  array  of 
books  and  magazines,  might  be  described  in  the  language  of  Mr. 
Welter  the  elder,  as  '  a  stout  gentleman  of  eight  and  forty.'  He  is 
in  for  a  long  day's  work  apparently,  and  has  taken  off  his  coat. 
Luckily  for  authors,  Mr.  Ripley  is  a  gentleman  of  sound  digestion 
and  indomitable  good  humor,  who  enjoys  life  and  helps  others  en 
joy  it,  and  believes  that  anger  and  hatred  are  seldom  proper,  and 
never  '  pay.'  He  examines  each  book,  we  observe,  with  care. 
Without  ever  being  in  a  hurry,  he  gets  through  an  amazing  quan 
tity  of  work ;  and  all  he  does  shows  the  touch  and  finish  of  the 
practical  hand.  Mr.  Dana  enters  with  a  quick,  decided  step,  goes 
straight  to  his  desk  in  the  green-carpeted  sanctum  sanctorum,  and 
is  soon  lost  in  the  perusal  of  4  Karl  Marx,'  or  '  An  American  Wo 
man  in  Paris.'  In  figure,  face,  and  flowing  beard,  he  looks  enough 
like  Louis  Kossuth  to  be  his  cousin,  if  not  his  brother.  Mr.  Dana, 
as  befits  his  place,  is  a  gentleman  of  peremptory  habits.  It  is  his 
office  to  decide  ;  and,  as  he  is  called  upon  to  perfr  rm  the  act  of  de 
cision  a  hundred  times  a  day,  he  has  acquired  Lie  power  both  of 
deciding  with  despatch  and  of  announcing  his  decision  with  civil 
brevity,  If  you  desire  a  plain  answer  to  a  plain  question,  Charles 
A.  Dana  is  the  gentleman  who  can  accommodate  you.  He  is  ao 


THE    EDITORIAL   CORPS.  405 

able  and,  in  description,  a  brilliant  writer ;  a  good  speaker  ;  fond 
and  proud  of  his  profession ;  indefatigable  in  the  discharge  of  its 
duties ;  when  out  of  harness,  agreeable  as  a  companion ;  in  harness, 
a  man  not  to  be  interrupted.  Mr.  Ottarson,  the  city  editor,  has  not 
yet  made  h's  appearance  ;  he  did  not  leave  the  office  last  night  till 
three  hours  after  midnight.  Before  he  left,  however,  he  prepared 
a  list  of  things  to  be  reported  and  described  to-day,  writing  oppo 
site  each  expected  occurrence  the  name  of  the  man  whom  he  wished 
to  attend  to  it.  The  reporters  come  to  the  office  in  the  morning, 
and  from  this  list  ascertain  what  special  duty  is  expected  of  them. 
Mr.  Ottarson  rose  from  the  ranks.  He  has  been  everything  in  a 
newspaper  office,  from  devil  to  editor.  He  is  one  of  the  busiest  of 
men,  and  fills  the  most  difficult  post  in  the  establishment  with  great 
ability.  That  elegant  and  rather  distingue  gentleman  with  the 
small,  black,  Albert  moustache,  who  is  writing  at  the  desk  over 
there  in  the  corner,  is  the  commercial  editor,  the  writer  of  the 
money  article — Mr.  George  M.  Snow.  We  should  have  taken  him 
for  anything  but  a  commercial  gentlemen.  Mr.  Pike,  the  '  J.  S.  P.* 
of  former  Washington  correspondence,  now  a  writer  on  political 
subjects,  is  not  present ;  nor  are  other  members  of  the  corps. 

Between  twelve  and  one,  Mr.  Greeley  comes  in,  with  his  pockets 
full  of  papers,  and  a  bundle  under  his  arm.  His  first  act  is  to  dis 
patch  his  special  aid-de-sanctum  on  various  errands,  such  as  to  de 
liver  notes,  letters  and  messages,  to  procure  seeds  or  implements 
for  the  farm,  et  cetera.  Then,  perhaps,  he  will  comment  on  the 
morning's  paper,  dwelling  with  pertinacious  emphasis  upon  its  de 
fects,  hard  to  be  convinced  that  an  alleged  fault  was  unavoidable. 
After  two  or  three  amusing  colloquies  of  this  nature,  he  makes 
his  way  to  the  sanctum,  where,  usually,  several  people  are  waiting 
to  see  him.  He  takes  his  seat  at  his  desk  and  begins  to  examine 
the  heap  of  notes,  letters,  newspapers  and  clippings,  with  which  it 
is  covered,  while  one  after  another  of  his  visitors  states  his  busi 
ness.  One  is  an  exile  who  wants  advice,  or  a  loan,  or  an  advertise 
ment  inserted  gratis ;  he  does  not  get  the  loan,  for  Mr.  Greeley 
long  ago  shut  down  the  door  upon  miscellaneous  borrowers  and 
beggars.  Another  visitor  has  an  invention  which  he  wishes  par 
agraphed  into  celebrity.  Another  is  one  of  the  lecture-committee 
of  ft  country  Lyceum,  and  wants  our  editor  to  l  come  out  and  give 


106  DAY   AND    NIGHT   IN   THE    TRIBUNE    OFFICE. 

us  a  lecture  this  winter.'  Another  is  a  country  clergyman  who  has 
called  to  say  how  much  he  likes  the  semi-weekly  Tribune,  and  to 
gratify  his  curiosity  by  speaking  with  the  editor  face  to  face.  Grad 
ually  the  throng  diminishes  and  the  pile  of  papers  is  reduced.  By 
three  or  four  o'clock,  this  preliminary  botheration  is  disposed  of, 
and  Mr.  Greeley  goes  to  dinner. 

Meanwhile,  all  the  departments  of  the  establishment  have  beep 
in  a  state  of  activity.  It  is  Thursday,  the  day  of  the  Weekly  Tri 
bune,  the  inside  of  which  began  to  be  printed  at  seven  in  the  morn 
ing.  Before  the  day  closes,  the  whole  edition,  one  hundred  and 
sixteen  thousand,  forty-eight  cart-loads,  will  have  been  printed, 
folded,  wrapped,  bundled,  bagged,  and  carried  to  the  post-office. 
The  press-room  on  Thursdays  does  its  utmost,  and  presents  a  scene 
of  bustle  and  movement  'easier  imagined  than  described.'  No 
small  amount  of  work,  too,  is  done  in  the  office  of  publication. 
To-day,  as  we  ascertain,  two  hundred  and  thirteen  business  letters 
were  received,  containing,  among  other  things  less  interesting, 
eleven  hundred  and  seventy-two  dollars,  and  four  hundred  and  ten 
new  or  renewed  subscriptions,  each  of  which  has  been  recorded 
and  placed  upon  the  wrapper- writer's  books.  The  largest  sum 
ever  received  by  one  mail  was  eighteen  hundred  dollars.  The 
weekly  expenditures  of  the  concern  average  about  six  thousand 
two  hundred  dollars,  of  which  sum  four  thousand  is  for  paper. 
During  the  six  dull  months  of  the  year,  the  receipts  and  expendi 
tures  are  about  equal ;  in  the  active  months  the  receipts  exceed 
the  expenditures. 

It  is  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening.  Gas  has  resumed.  The  clank 
of  the  press  has  ceased,  and  the  basement  is  dimly  lighted.  The 
clerks,  who  have  been  so  busy  all  day,  have  gone  home,  and  the 
night-clerk,  whom  we  saw  this  morning  in  his  press-room  pulpit,  is 
now  behind  the  counter  of  the  office  receiving  advertisements. 
Night-work  agrees  with  him,  apparently,  for  he  is  robust,  ruddy 
and  smiling.  Aloft  in  the  composing  room,  thirty-eight  men  are 
setting  type,  silently  and  fast.  No  sound  is  heard  but  the  click  of 
the  type,  or  the  voice,  now  and  then,  of  a  foreman,  or  the  noise  of 
of  the  copy-box  rattling  up  the  wooden  pipe  from  the  editor's  room 
below,  or  a  muffled  grunt  from  the  tin  tube  by  which  the  different 
rooms  hold  converse  with  one  another,  or  the  bell  which  calls  for 


THE    COMPOSING   ROOM    IN    THE    EVENING.  407 

the  application  of  an  ear  to  the  mouth  of  that  tnbe.  The  place  is 
warm,  close,  light,  and  still.  "Whether  it  i-s  necessarily  detrimental 
to  a  compositor's  health  to  work  from  eight  to  ten  hours  every  night 
in  such  an  atmosphere,  in  such  a  light,  is  still,  it  appears,  a  ques 
tion.  Mr.  G-reeley  thinks  it  is  not.  The  compositors  think.it  is, 
and  seldom  feel  able  to  work  more  than  four  nights  a  week,  filling 
their  places  on  the  other  nights  from  the  list  of  substitutes,  or  in 
printer's  language  '  subs.'  Compositors  say,  that  sleep  in  the  day 
time  is  a  very  different  thing  from  sleep  at  night,  particularly  in 
summer,  when  to  create  an  artificial  night  is  to  exclude  the  needful 
air.  They  say  that  they  never  get  perfectly  used  to  the  reversion 
of  nature's  order;  and  often,  after  a  night  of  drowsiness  so  extreme 
that  they  would  give  the  world  if  they  could  sink  down  upon  the 
floor  and  sleep,  they  go  to  bed  at  length,  and  find  that  offended 
Morpheus  has  taken  his  flight,  and  left  their  eye-lids  glued  to  their 
brows;  and  they  cannot  close  them  before  the  inexorable  hour  ar 
rives  that  summons  them  to  work  again.  In  the  middle  of  the 
room  the  principal  night-foreman  is  already  '  making  up'  the  out 
side  forms  of  to-morrow's  paper,  four  in  number,  each  a  section  of 
a  cylinder,  with  rims  of  polished  iron,  and  type  of  copper  face.  It 
is  slow  work,  and  a  moment's  inattention  might  produce  results 
more  ridiculous  than  cross-readings. 

The  editorial  rooms,  too,  have  become  intense.  Seven  desks  are 
occupied  with  silent  writers,  most  of  them  in  the  Tribune  uniform — 
shirt-sleeves  and  moustache.  The  night-reader  is  looking  over  the 
papers  List  arrived,  with  scissors  ready  for  any  paragraph  of  news 
that  catches  his  eye.  An  editor  occasionally  goes  to  the  copy-box, 
places  in  it  a  page  or  two  of  the  article  lie  is  writing,  and  rings  the 
bell ;  the  box  slides  up  to  the  composing-room,  and  the  pages  are  in 
type  and  corrected  before  the  article  is  finished.  Such  articles  are 
those  which  are  prompted  by  the  event  of  the  hour ;  others  are 
more  deliberately  written  ;  some  are  weeks  in  preparation ;  and  of 
some  the  keel  is  laid  months  before  they  are  launched  upon  the  pub 
lic  mind.  The  Editor-in-Chief  is  at  his  desk  writing  in  a  singular 
attitude,  the  desk  on  a  level  with  his  nose,  and  the  writer  sitting 
bolt  upright.  He  writes  rapidly,  with  scarcely  a  pause  for  thought, 
and  not  once  in  a  page  makes  an  erasure.  The  foolscap  leaves  fly 
from  under  his  pen  at  the  rate  »f  one  in  fifteen  minutes.  He  does 


408  DAY    AND    NIGHT    IN    THE    TRIBUKG    OFFICE. 

most  of  the  thinking  before  he  begins  to  write,  and  produces  matter 
about  as  fast  as  a  swift  copyist  can  copy.  Yet  he  leaves  nothing  for 
the  compositor  to  guess  at,  and  if  he  makes  an  alteration  in  the  proof, 
he  is  careful  to  do  it  in  such  a  way  that  the  printer  loses  no  time  in 
'overrunning;'  that  is,  he  inserts  as  many  words  as  he  erases.  Not 
unfrequently  he  bounds  up  into  the  composing-room,  and  makes  a 
correction  or  adds  a  sentence  with  his  own  hand.  He  is  not  patient 
under  the  infliction  of  an  error;  and  he  expects  men  to  understand 
his  wishes  by  intuition;  and  when  they  do  not,  but  interpret  his 
half-expressed  orders  in  a  way  exactly  contrary  to  his  intention,  a 
scene  is  likely  to  ensue. 

And  so  they  write  and  read  in  the  editorial  rooms  of  the  Tribune 
for  some  hours.  Occasionally  a  City  Reporter  comes  in  with  his 
budget  of  intelligence,  or  his  short-hand  notes,  and  sits  down  at  a 
desk  to  arrange  or  write  them  out.  Telegraphic  messages  arrive 
from  the  agent  of  the  Associated  Press,  or  from  'our  own  corre 
spondent.'  Mr.  Dana  glances  over  them,  sends  them  aloft,  and,  if 
they  are  important,  indites  a  paragraph  calling  attention  to  the  fact. 
That  omnipresent  creature,  the  down-town  apple-woman,  whom  no 
labyrinth  puzzles,  no  extent  of  stairs  fatigues,  no  presence  overawes, 
enters,  and  thrusts  her  basket  in  deliberate  succession  under  each 
editorial  nose.  Some  of  the  corps,  deep  in  the  affairs  of  the  nation, 
pause  in  their  writing,  gaze  at  the  woman  in  utter  abstraction,  slow 
ly  come  to  a  sense  of  her  errand,  shake  their  heads,  and  resume 
their  work.  Others  hurriedly  buy  an  apple,  and  taking  one  prodig 
ious  bite,  lay  it  aside  and  forget  it.  A  band  of  music  is  heard  in 
the  street;  it  is  a  target-excursion  returning  late  from  Hoboken;  it 
passes  the  office  and  gives  it  three  cheers ;  the  city  men  go  to  the  win 
dows;  the  rest  write  on  unconscious  of  the  honor  that  has  been 
done  them ;  the  Tribune  returns  the  salute  by  a  paragraph. 

Midnight.  The  strain  is  off.  Mr.  Greeley  finished  his  work  about 
eleven,  chatted  a  while  with  Mi*.  Dana,  and  went  home.  Mr.  Dana 
has  received  from  the  foreman  the  list  of  the  articles  in  type,  the 
articles  now  in  hand,  and  the  articles  expected  ;  he  has  designated 
those  which  must  go  in ;  those  which  it  is  highly  desirable  should 
go  in,  and  those  which  will  'keep.'  He  has  also  marked  the  order 
in  which  the  articles  are  to  appear ;  and,  having  performed  this  last 
duty,  he  returns  the  list  to  the  compositor,  puts  on  his  coat  and  de- 


MIDNIGHT.  409 

parts.  Mr.  Fry  is  on  the  last  page  of  his  critique  of  this  evening's 
Grisi,  which  he  executes  with  steam-engine  rapidity,  and  sends  uj> 
without  reading.  He  lingers  awhile,  and  then  strolls  off  up  town. 
Mr.  Ottarson  is  still  busy,  as  reporters  continually  arrive  with  items 
of  news,  which  he  hastily  examines,  and  consigns  either  to  the  bas 
ket  under  his  desk,  or  to  the  copy-box.  The  first  phalanx  of  com 
positors  is  dismissed,  and  they  come  thundering  down  the  dark  stairs, 
putting  on  their  coats  as  they  descend.  The  foreman  is  absorbed  in 
making  up  the  inside  forms,  as  he  has  just  sent  those  of  the  outside 
below,  and  the  distant  clanking  of  the  press  announces  that  they 
have  begun  to  be  printed.  We  descend,  and  find  the  sheets  coming 
off  the  press  at  the  rate  of  a  hundred  and  sixty  a  minute.  The  en- 
gine-mau  is  conmiodiously  seated  on  an  inverted  basket,  under  a 
gas-jet,  reading  the  outside  of  the  morning's  paper,  and  the  chief  of 
the  press-room  is  scanning  a  sheet  to  see  if  the  impression  is  perfect. 
The  gigantic  press  has  six  mouths,  and  six  men  are  feeding  him  with 
white  paper,  slipping  in  the  sheets  with  the  easy  knack  acquired  by 
long  practice.  It  looks  a  simple  matter,  this  '  feeding ;'  but  if  a  new 
hand  were  to  attempt  it,  the  iron  maw  of  the  monster  would  be 
instantly  choked,  and  his  whole  system  disarranged.  For  he  is  as 
delicate  as  he  is  strong;  the  little  finger  of  a  child  can  start  and 
stop  him,  moderate  his  pace,  or  quicken  it  to  the  snapping  of  his 
sinews. 

Three  o'clock  in  the  morning  Mr.  Ottarson  is  in  trouble.  The 
ontside  of  the  paper  is  printed,  the  inside  forms  are  ready  to  be  low 
ered  away  to  the  basement,  and  the  press-men  are  impatiently  wait 
ing  the  signal  to  receive  it.  The  pulpit  of  the  night  clerk  is  ready 
for  his  reception,  the  spacious  folding- table  is  cleared,  and  two  car 
riers  have  already  arrived.  All  the  compositors  except  the  last 
phalanx  have  gone  home ;  and  they  have  corrected  the  last  proof^ 
and  desire  nothing  so  much  as  to  be  allowed  to  depart.  But  an 
English  steamer  is  overdue,  and  a  telegraphic  dispatch  from  the 
agent  of  the  Associated  Press  at  Sandy  Hook,  who  has  been  all  night 
in  his  yacht  cruising  for  the  news,  is  anxiously  expected.  It  does 
not  come.  The  steamer  (as  we  afterwards  ascertain)  has  arrived, 
but  the  captain  churlishly  refused  to  throw  on  board  the  yacht  the 
customary  newspaper.  Mr.  Ottarson  fancies  he  hears  a  gun.  A 
moment  after  he  is  positive  lie  hears  another.  He  has  five  men  of 

18 


4 10  DAY   AND    NIGHT   IN    THE    TRIBUNE    OFFICE. 

his  corps  within  call,  and  he  sends  them  flying !  One  goes  to  the 
Astor  House  to  see  if  ihs.y  have  heard  of  the  steamer's  arrival;  an 
other  to  the  offices  of  the  Times  and  Herald,  on  the  same  errand ; 
others  to  Jersey  City,  to  be  ready  in  case  the  steamer  reaches  her 
wharf  in  time.  It  is  ascertained,  about  half-past  three,  that  the 
steamer  is  coming  up  the  bay,  and  that  her  news  cannot  possibly  be 
procured  before  five ;  and  so,  Mr.  Ottarson,  having  first  ascertained 
that  the  other  morning  papers  have  given  up  the  hope  of  the  news 
for  their  first  editions,  goes  to  press  in  despair,  and  home  in  ill  humor. 
In  a  few  minutes,  the  forms  are  lowered  to  the  basement,  wheeled 
to  the  side  of  the  press,  and  hoisted  to  their  places  on  the  press  by 
a  crank.  The  feeders  take  their  stands,  the  foreman  causes  the 
press  to  make  one  revolution,  examines  a  sheet,  pronounces  it  nil 
right,  sets  the  press  in  motion  at  a  rattling  rate,  and  nothing  remains 
to  be  done  except  to  print  off  thirty  thousand  copies  and  distribute 
them. 

The  last  scene  of  all  is  a  busy  one  indeed.  The  press-room  is  all 
alive  with  carriers,  news-men  and  folding-boys,  each  of  whom  is  in 
a  fever  of  hurry.  Four  or  five  boys  are  carrying  the  papers  in  back- 
loads  from  the  press  to  the  clerk,  and  to  the  mailing  tables.  The 
carriers  receive  their  papers  in  the  order  of  the  comparative  dis 
tance  of  their  districts  from  the  office.  No  money  passes  between 
them  aiid  the  clerk.  They  come  to  the  office  every  afternoon,  ex 
amine  the  book  of  subscribers,  note  the  changes  ordered  in  their 
respective  routes,  pay  for  the  number  of  papers  they  will  require  on 
the  following  morning,  and  receive  a  ticket  entitling  them  to  receive 
the  designated  number.  The  number  of  papers  distributed  by  one 
carrier  varies  from  two  hundred  and  fifty  to  five  hundred.  Some 
of  the  carriers,  however,  are  assisted  by  boys  As  a  carrier  gains 
a  weekly  profit  of  three  cents  on  each  subscriber,  one  who  delivers 
nve  hundred  papers  has  an  income  of  fifteen  dollars  a  week ;  and  it 
is  well  earned.  Most  of  the  small  news-men  in  town,  country,  and 
railroad-car,  are  supplied  with  their  papers  by  a  wholesale  firm,  who 
deliver  them  at  a  slight  increase  of  price  over  the  first  cost.  The 
firm  alluded  to  purchases  from  fonr  to  five  thousand  copies  of  the 
Tribune  every  morning. 

By  five  o'clock,  usually,  the  morning  edition  has  been  printed 
off,  the  carriers  supplied,  the  early  mail  dispatched,  and  the  bundles 


THE    CARRIERS.  411 

for  adjacent  towns  made  up.     Again  there  is  a  lull  in  the  activity 
of  the  Tribune  building,  and,  sleepily,  we  bend  bur  steps  homeward. 

There  is  something  extremely  pleasing  in  the  spectacle  afforded 
by  a  large  number  of  strong  men  co-operating  in  cheerful  activity, 
by  which  they  at  once  secure  their  own  career,  and  render  an  im 
portant  service  to  the  public.  Such  a  spectacle  the  Tribune  build 
ing  presents.  At  present  men  show  to  best  advantage  when  they 
are  at  work ;  we  have  not  yet  learned  to  sport  with  grace  and  un 
mixed  benefit ;  and  still  further  are  we  from  that  stage  of  develop 
ment  where  work  and  play  become  one.  But  the  Tribune  building 
is  a  very  cheerful  place.  No  one  is  oppressed  or  degraded  ;  and, 
by  the  minute  subdivision  of  labor  in  all  departments,  there  is  sel 
dom  any  occasion  for  hurry  or  excessive  exertion.  The  distinctions 
which  there  exist  between  one  man  and  another,  are  not  artificial, 
but  natural  and  necessary ;  foreman  and  editor,  office-boy  and  head 
clerk,  if  they  converse  together  at  all,  converse  as  friends  and 
equals ;  and  the  posts  of  honor  are  posts  of  honor,  only  because  they 
are  posts  of  difficulty.  In  a  word,  the  republicanism  of  the  Con 
tinent  has  come  to  a  focus  at  the  corner  of  Nassau  and  Spruce- 
streets.  There  it  has  its  nearest  approach  to  practical  realization ; 
thence  proceeds  its  strongest  expression. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

HOKACE  GKEELEY  IN  A  FRENCH  PEISON. 

Voyage  to  Europe— Visit  to  the  exhibition— At  the  tomb  of  Napoleon— Two  days  in  the 
debtors'  prison — In  London  again — Comments  of  the  editor  on  men  and  things. 

IN  the  year  1855,  which  was  that  of  the  first  Paris  Exhibition, 
Mr.  Greeley  again  enjoyed  a  few  weeks'  holiday  in  Europe.  The 
voyage,  however,  was  anything  but  enjoyment.  "  I  have  expressed," 
he  says,  "  my  own  opinion  of  the  sea  and  its  behavior  before,  and 
do  not  care  to  reiterate  it.  I  suffered  far  less  intensely  this  time, 
and  gratefully  acknowledge  the  kind  Providence  which  preserved 
us  from  the  perils  and  afflictions  by  which  others  have  been  visited 
But  to  me  c  a  life  on  the  ocean  wave  '  is  still  surcharged  with  misery, 
and  a  steamship  on  rocking  billows  the  most  intolerable  prison 
wherewith  man's  follies  or  sins  are  visited.  I  think  I  could  just 
endure  the  compound  stench  of  grease  and  steam  which  '  ascend- 
eth  for  ever  and  ever '  on  board  these  fire-ships ;  I  might  even  bear 
the  addition  to  my  agonies  which  the  damp,  chilly  breeze  (when  it 
happens  not  to  be  a  gale)  never  fails  to  induce ;  I  might  come  in 
time  to  grapple  with  and  throttle  the  demon  Sea-sickness,  remorse 
less  as  he  is ;  but  when  to  these  are  added  the  fumes  arising  from 
the  incessant  cookery  required  for  three  or  four  hundred  human 
beings,  all  huddled  within  a  space  two  hundred  feet  long  by  some 
twenty-five  wide,  I  am  compelled  to  surrender.  There  certainly 
can  be  fabricated  nowhere  else  on  earth  a  jumble  of  smells  so  in 
tolerably  nauseous  and  sickening." 

In  his  first  letter  to  tne  Tribune,  from  which  the  above  is  taken, 
he  gives  some  particulars  of  the  voyage  which  are  interesting :  — 

THE   ROUTINE   ON   SHIPBOARD. 

"  The  day  opens  at  this  season  about  sunrise  with  a  concert  of 
scrubbing  implements  on  the  decks,  and  the  first  passengers  who 
rise  find  the  sailors  still  intent  on  the  purifying  process.  Occasion 
ally  brass  hand-railings,  &c.,  are  rubbed,  and  no  pains  spared  gen- 


THE   ROUTINE   ON   SHIPBOARD.  413 

erally  to  keep  the  vessel  as  clean  as  possible.  One  by  one,  the 
passengers  stumble  up  from  their  state-rooms,  and  gather  for 
warmth  around  the  great  smoke-pipe  amidships,  or  begin  walk 
ing  back  and  forth  the  hurricane  or  quarter-deck.  When  the 
wind  is  very  high,  or  the  spray  particularly  searching,  this  is 
abandoned  for  one  or  both  of  the  open  passages  on  the  main  deck, 
on  either  side  of  the  dining-room ;  when  the  rain  pours  fiercely,  all 
out-door  walking  is  forborne,  or  only  prosecuted  by  the  stubborn 
under  the  protection  of  an  umbrella.  A  loud  bell  at  eight  sum 
mons  the  sluggish  to  prepare  for  breakfast,  which  is  served  half  an 
hour  later ;  from  one  third  to  two  thirds  of  the  passengers,  accord 
ing  to  the  state  of  the  weather  and  the  waves,  entering  an  appear 
ance  at  the  breakfast-table.  Some  of  the  residue  are  served  in 
their  berths ;  some  have  a  plate  on  deck ;  other  some  are  too  sick 
to  eat  at  all. 

"  From  breakfast,  the  active  adjourn  to  the  decks,  there  to  resume 
the  monotonous  tramp,  tramp,  or  gather  in  knots  around  the  great 
chimney,  where  heat  is  ever  abundant ;  many  go  forward  to  smoke, 
and  some,  alas !  smoke  without  going  forward,  to  the  aggravated 
discomposure  of  uneasy  stomachs ;  for  the  sick  are  crouching  in 
corners,  or  lounging  on  settees,  or  propped  up  by  the  railing  in 
front  of  cushions,  or  trying  to  walk  by  the  help  of  a  friendly  arm, 
or  attempting  any  other  dodge  which  promises  alleviation,  if  not 
temporary  oblivion,  of  their  woes.  A  few  try  to  read ;  still  fewer 
to  write ;  but  neither  of  these  employments  can  be  recommended 
to  the  sick,  and  they  do  not  seem  to  recommend  themselves  very 
strongly  to  the  great  body  of  the  well.  As  soon  as  the  tables  are 
partly  cleared,  some  of  the  more  inveterate  card-players  recom 
mence  their  various  games ;  two  or  three  pairs  sit  down  to  chess, 
drafts,  or  backgammon.  Noon  brings  luncheon,  which  accommo 
dates  a  class  who  do  not  rise  in  season  for  breakfast ;  four  o'clock 
summons  to  dinner,  over  which  the  comfortable  manage  to  kill  an 
hour  or  more,  not  ineffectively ;  next  follows  the  more  general  par 
ade  and  promenade  on  the  upper  deck,  which  the  quality  now  con 
descend  to  honor  by  their  patronage  and  co-operation ;  and  at  half 
past  seven  the  bell  sounds  for  tea,  and  thus  the  evening  is  fairly 
begun. 

Tea  being  speedily  despatched  and  the  tables  cleared,  a  goodly 
company  gather  in  the  dining-saloon,  and  sit  down  to  cheerful 


414  HORACE   GREELEY  IN   A   FRENCH   PRISON. 

conversation,  to  the  various  sedentary  games,  to  reading,  &c.  The 
number  of  whist-players  is  very  much  larger  than  "by  day,  for  the 
salt  spray  and  damp  night-winds  on  decks  are  neither  pleasant 
nor  wholesome.  Thus  acquaintances  are  formed  or  ripened,  sym 
pathies  developed,  and  day  after  day  sees  the  ice  which  had  sepa 
rated  the  company  of  recent  strangers  gradually  dissolving  and  dis 
appearing.  By  nine  o'clock  the  more  hardy  or  reckless  begin  to 
order  supper,  —  usually  a  Welsh  rabbit  (melted  cheese  on  toasted 
bread),  eggs,  and  toast,  a  grilled  fowl,  pickled  salmon,  or  something 
of  the  kind.  Lest  such  a  refection  late  at  night  might  over-tax 
the  stomach,  it  is  usual  to  wash  it  down  with  a  tumbler  of  hot 
whiskey  punch,  a  glass  of  cherry  bounce,  brandy  and  water,  a 
tumbler  or  two  of  champagne,  a  bottle  of  ale,  or  something  of  the 
sort.  I  was  a  little  surprised  to  see  delicate  ladies,  who  had  clung 
to  then*  berths  through  the  first  two  or  three  days  of  the  voyage, 
soon  after  take  their  places  at  the  evening  table  and  partake  freely 
of  the  edibles  and  potables  above  named.  When  they  appeared 
next  day,  —  which  was  not  till  long  after  breakfast  had  vanished, 
—  I  inquired  anxiously  the  state  of  their  health  respectively,  and 
was  assured  that  it  had  been  sensibly  improved  by  the  rabbits 
and  punches  aforesaid.  On  the  third  morning  of  my  inquiries, 
however,  I  was  informed  by  a  candid  male  friend,  who  had  freely 
indulged  with  the  rest,  that  he  had  not  slept  well  the  last  night; 
'  The  rabbit  kicked  me,'  was  his  way  of  stating  the  fact  and  hint 
ing  the  cause.  Others  were  not  all  so  candid ;  but  suppers  and 
grog  were  not  half  so  popular  toward  the  end  of  the  voyage  as 
they  were  at  the  beginning." 

SUNDAY  AT   SEA. 

"I  liked  to  hear  the  bell  ring  for  worship  on  Sunday  morning,  and 
all  the  seamen  not  on  duty  thereupon  march  in,  in  their  clean, 
smart  blue  jackets,  prayer-b»ok  in  hand,  and  take  their  seats  in 
the  dining-saloon.  Soon  the  passengers  also  were  assembled,  and 
the  captain  read  appropriately  the  morning  service  of  the  Church 
of  England,  a  majority  of  the  assemblage  uniting  in  the  responses 
audibly,  and  nearly  all,  I  presume,  in  spirit.  Then  a  Presbyterian 
clergyman,  who  was  one  of  the  passengers,  preached  an  off-hand 
sermon  with  great  energy  and  zeal,  commencing  and  closing  with 
prayer.  I  think  a  liturgy  never  commends  itself  more  forcibly 


MR    GREELEY  IS    SHAVED.  415 

than  on  such  occasions  as  this ;  and  I  would  suggest  that  each  de 
nomination  should  provide  itself  with  complete  forms  of  worship, 
with  a  view  to  their  use  by  gatherings  of  lay  members  when  no 
clergyman  or  other  extempore  leader  of  worship  may  be  present. 

"  The  next  evening  we  were  favored  with  a  discourse  by  (I  should 
rather  say  through}  a  lady  passenger,  somewhat  famous  among 
Spiritualists  as  a  '  medium '  for  this  sort  of  communications.  I 
feel  much  obliged  to  her  for  so  readily  and  freely  enabling  us  to  lis 
ten  to  this  sort  of  teaching ;  but  my  gratitude  by  no  means  extends 
to  the  '  spirits,'  who  gave  us  a  poor,  rambling,  incoherent  discourse, 
which  seemed  to  me  but  a  dilution  of  some  of  the  poorest  plati 
tudes  of  Jackson  Davis,  —  a  weak  sherry-cobbler,  compounded 
from  '  The  Vestiges  of  Creation,' '  Nature's  Divine  Revelations,'  and 
the  most  rarefied  yet  non-luminous  fog  of  modern  Pantheism. 
Withal,  the  manner  was  that  of  our  very  worst  Fourth-of-July 
orators,  —  which  I  do  intensely  abominate,  —  and  the  diction  full 
of  forty-eight-pounders  mounted  on  very  rickety  pig-pens.  I  am 
sure  the  lady  would  have  done  much  better  if  she  had  exorcised 
the  spirits,  and  just  given  us  a  discourse  in  her  own  natural  man 
ner,  and  out  of  her  own  head.  If  she  ever  consents  to  speak  again, 
I  hope  she  will  profit  by  this  suggestion." 

MR.    GREELEY   IS   SHAVED. 

"  I  got  one  extra  glimpse  of  sea-life  by  reason  of  the  lack  of  a 
barber  on  the  Asia  in  common  with  all  the  Cunarders.  Unschooled 
in  the  art  tonsorial,  I  had  gone  unshaved  more  than  a  week,  and 
met  the  remonstrances  of  friends  with  a  simple  averment  that  what 
they  urged  was  impossible.  In  this  I  was  at  length  overheard  by 
a  seaman  on  deck,  who  interpleaded  that  if  I  would  follow  him  I 
should  be  speedily  and  satisfactorily  rendered  beardless.  I  could 
hardly  back  out ;  so  I  followed  him  into  the  ship's  forecastle,  took 
my  seat  on  a  rough  bench  without  a  back,  whereupon  a  rougher 
tar,  with  an  instrument  which  he  seems  to  have  mistaken  for  a 
razor,  performed  the  operation  required,  and  pocketed  a  quarter 
therefor  without  grumbling.  I  did  not  offer  him  more,  for  my  face 
was  smarting  at  the  time ;  but  the  sights  and  smells  of  that  fore 
castle  were  richly  worth  a  dollar.  When  we  consider  that  there, 
in  a  space  not  cubically  larger  than  two  average  prison-cells,  some 
thirty  or  forty  men  live  and  sleep,  without  a  crevice  for  ventilation, 


416  HORACE   GREELEY  IN  A   FRENCH  PRISON. 

and  in  a  reek  of  foul  effluvia  so  dense  as  to  defy  description,  how 
can  we  wonder  that  sailors  often  act  like  beasts  on  shore  if  they 
are  forced  to  live  so  like  beasts  on  water  ?  Ah,  Messrs.  Merchant 
Princes  of  New  York  1  before  you  waste  one  more  dollar  on  at 
tempts  to  improve  the  moral  and  religious  condition  of  seamen,  be 
entreated  to  secure  them  a  chance  to  breathe  pure  air  on  board 
your  own  vessels,  —  to  sleep  at  least  as  healthfully  and  decently  as 
your  hogs !  Until  you  do  this,  preaching  to  them,  scattering  tracts 
and  Bibles  among  them,  and  even  building  sailors'  homes  for  them 
on  land,  —  though  all  excellent  in  their  time  and  place,  —  will  be 
just  so  much  cash  and  effort  thrown  away." 

Upon  his  arrival  in  Paris  he  entered  upon  the  laborious  duty  of 
sight-seeing  with  his  usual  vigor,  and  daily  related  his  experien 
ces  to  the  readers  of  the  Tribune  with  characteristic  comments. 
One  or  two  passages  from  his  letters  may  detain  the  reader  for  a 
moment.  The  following  remarks  are  almost  as  applicable  to  the 
present  moment  as  they  were  to  the  state  of  things  in  1855 :  — 

WILL   THE   EMPIRE   LAST  ? 

"  I  meet  no  one  who  believes  it  will  survive  the  present  Emperor, 
but  very  many  who  think  it  will  last  as  long  as  he  does.  While 
no  one  speaks  of  his  patriotism  or  disinterestedness,  even  by  way 
of  joke,  there  is  a  very  general  trust  in  his  ability  and  confidence 
in  his  indefatigable  energy.  He  is  probably  the  most  active,  untir 
ing  ruler  now  living,  and  in  this  respect  at  least  reminds  the  French 
of  *  Napoleon  le  Grand.'  He  has,  besides,  the  undoubted  courage, 
inscrutable  purpose,  and  unwavering  faith  in  his  '  star,'  which  befit 
the  heir  of  the  first  Bonaparte.  He  is,  moreover,  the  only  focus 
around  which  all  the  anti-Republican  forces  and  interests  in  France 
can  for  the  present  be  rallied.  The  priests  do  not  imagine  him  de 
vout  nor  sincerely  attached  to  their  fortunes,  but  they  say,  '  What 
matter,  so  long  as  he  does  our  work  ?  '  The  Legitimists  and  Or- 
leanists  "(the  former  comprising  nearly  all  the  remains  of  the  wool 
or  land-owning  aristocracy,  the  latter  including  many  6f  the  master 
manufacturers,  contractors,  thrifty  traders,  stock-jobbers,  and  lucky 
parvenues  generally)  say :  '  This  cannot  last ;  but  while  it  does 
last,  it  protects  us  from  Jacobinism,  from  Socialism,  from  turbu 
lence,  anarchy,  and  the  guillotine ;  so  let  it  last  so  long  as  it  will. 


HORACE  GREELEY  AT  THE  TOMB  OF  NAPOLEON.     417 

The  more  intelligent  workmen,  the  skilful  artificers,  the  thinkers, 
the  teachers,  the  observing,  aspiring  youth,  who  are  almost  to  a 
man  Republicans,  say :  *  This  evidently  cannot  last ;  then  why 
plunge  the  nation  into  intestine  convulsion  and  bloodshed,  when 
it  is  already  groaning  under  the  load  of  a  distant,  expensive,  and 
sanguinary  foreign  war  ?  '  And  thus  the  general  conviction  that 
the  empire  is  but  a  state  of  transition  serves  to  protect  it  from 
present  assault  and  immediate  danger." 

THE   EXHIBITION. 

"  I  bid  adieu  to  the  World's  Exhibition  of  1855  in  the  conviction 
that  I  have  not  half  seen  it,  and  that  nine  tenths  of  its  visitors  are 
even  more  ignorant  of  its  contents  than  I  am.  Its  immensity  tends 
to  confuse  and  bewilder ;  the  eye  glances  rapidly  from  one  brilliant 
object  to  another,  while  the  mind  fixes  steadily  upon  none  ;  so  that 
lie  who  wanders,  fitfully  gazing  from  court  to  court,  from  gallery  to 
gallery,  may  carry  away  nothing  positive  but  a  headache.  You 
will  see  hundreds  jostling  and  crowding  for  a  peep  at  the  Imperial 
diamonds,  crowns,  &c.,  which  are  said  to  have  cost  several  millions 
of  dollars,  (by  whom  earned  ?  how  taken  from  them  ?)  where  a 
dozen  can  with  difficulty  be  collected  to  witness  the  operation  of  a 
new  machine  calculated  to  confer  signal  benefits  on  the  whole  civ 
ilized  world.  Who  looks  at  the  self-adjusting  windmill,  which 
was  first  exhibited  in  our  country  last  year  ?  Yet  that,  if  it  prove 
what  it  promises,  will  do  mankind  more  service  than  all  the  dia 
monds  ever  diverted  from  their  legitimate  office  of  glass-cutting  to 
lend  a  false,  deceitful  glitter  to  the  brows  of  Tyranny  and  Crime. 
Here  is  a  poor  French  artisan  with  a  very  simple  contrivance  for 
taking  the  long,  coarse  hairs  from  rabbit-skins,  leaving  the  fine, 
soft  fur  to  be  removed  by  itself,  —  the  machine  possibly  costing 
twenty  francs,  and  the  dressing  therewith  of  each  skin  hardly  a 
cent,  while  the  value  of  the  fur  is  thereby  doubled.  This  is  a 
very  small  matter,  which  hardly  any  one  regards ;  yet  it  is  proba 
bly  worth  to  Europe  more  than  the  annual  cost  of  either  of  its 
royal  families,  or  twenty  times  the  value  of  them  all." 

HORACE  GREELEY  AT  THE  TOMB  OF  NAPOLEON. 

"  The  Invalides  is  a  great  establishment,  erected  in  the  southwest 
quarter  of  Paris  by  Louis  XIV.,  as  a  hospital  or  home  for  maimed, 

18*  AA 


418  HORACE    GREELEY   IN    A    FRENCH    PRISON. 

disabled,  or  worn-out  soldiers, — the  surviving  victims  of  the  bloody 
phantom,  Glory.  It  has  accommodations  for  some  five  thousand, 
though  I  believe  a  smaller  number  are  now  quartered  there, — 
some  three  thousand  only ;  but  the  war  with  Russia  will  doubt 
less  create  a  speedy  demand  for  all  its  accommodations,  as  in  the 
days  of  Napoleon  I.  Here  the  still  surviving  wrecks  and  relics  of 
bygone  wars  doze  out  their  remnant  of  existence,  being  frugally 
fed  and  lodged  at  the  expense  of  the  nation  for  whose  supposed 
safety,  interest,  or  honor  they  have  risked  their  lives,  shed  their 
blood,  and  often  lost  their  limbs.  The  arrangements  for  their  sub 
sistence  and  comfort  are  very  systematic  and  thorough ;  their  food 
and  lodging  are  of  better  quality  and  better  ordered  than  those  of 
the  peasantry  in  their  humble  homes ;  they  have  a  fine  church  in 
one  end  of  the  great  quadrangular  building  which  forms  their 
'hotel,'  with  no  lack  of  priestly  ministrations.  Their  church  is 
decorated  rather  than  enriched  with  many  pictures;  yet  there 
is  one  painting  on  glass  representing  the  Dead  Christ  which  may 
not  be  approved  by  critics,  but  which  fixed  my  attention  more 
than  any  other  work  of  art  I  have  seen  in  Paris.  Though  you 
know  what  it  is,  you  cannot  dispel  the  impression  that  you  are 
looking  through  a  glass  case  or  coffin,  and  gazing  on  an  actual 
corpse  or  waxen  model  of  it  lying  cold  and  stark  therein.  The 
illusion  is  so  perfect  as  to  be  painful,  and  therein,  if  anywhere,  is 
its  fault. 

"  Opposite  the  entrance  of  this  church  (which  is  still  hung  with 
foreign  flags,  the  trophies  of  French  victories,  though  the  twenty- 
five  hundred  such  which  formerly  decorated  it  were  burnt  by  Jo 
seph  Bonaparte's  order  the  night  before  the  capture  of  Paris  by  the 
Allies  in  1814)  rises  the  grand  altar,  resplendent  in  gold,  and 
lighted  by  side-windows  with  such  art  that,  even  in  a  dark,  rainy 
day,  the  whole  seems  to  bask  and  blaze  in  the  richest  sunlight  ; 
and  behind  this,  in  what  would  seem  to  be  an  extension  of  the 
church,  is  the  Tomb  of  Napoleon  I.  Though  you  are  within  a 
few  feet  of  this  structure  when  near  the  grand  altar  in  the  church, 
you  are  compelled  to  go  half  a  mile  around  to  enter  it ;  and  I  am 
not  quite  sure  that  the  journey  is  repaid  to  those  whose  admira 
tion  of  military  or  other  despots  is  not  stronger  than  mine.  Here 
marble  and  porphyry,  painting  and  sculpture,  gilding  and  mosaic, 
have  been  lavished  without  stint,  and  some  two  millions  of  dollars 


THE    FRENCH    SUNDAY.  419 

wrested  from  the  scanty  earnings  of  an  overtaxed  peasantry  to 
honor  the  bones  of  him  who  while  living  was  so  prodigal  alike  of 
their  treasure  and  their  blood.  The  author  of  this  squandering 
idolatry  was  Louis  Philippe,  who  thought  he  was  ingratiating 
himself  with  the  French  people  by  pandering  to  the  worship  of 
the  military  Juggernaut,  and  whose  family  now  live,  as  he  himself 
died,  in  exile  and  humiliation,  while  the  vast  estates  he  left  them 
have  been  seized  and  confiscated  by  the  nephew  and  heir  of  the 
Corsican  he  thus  helped  to  deify.  Who  can  pity  the  schemer  thus 
caught  in  his  own  snare  ?  Who  can  marvel  that  France,  not  yet 
fully  cured  of  that  passion  for  glory  which  exults  over  a  victory 
because  our  side  has  won,  and  not  because  the  universal  sway  of 
justice  and  equity  has  been  brought  nearer  thereby,  should  find 
herself  ground  under  the  heel  of  a  fresh  despot,  who  tears  her 
youth  from  their  beloved  homes  and  useful  labors  to  swell  the  un 
ripe  harvest  of  death  on  the  battle-field  ?  I  forget  the  name  of 
the  French  Democrat  who  observed  that  his  country  could  never 
enjoy  true  liberty  until  the  ashes  of  Napoleon  shall  be  torn  from 
this  costly  mausoleum  and  thrown  into  the  Seine,  but  I  fully  con 
cur  ju  his  opinion." 

THE    FRENCH   SUNDAY. 

"  I  am  no  formalist,  and  would  not  have  Sunday  kept  absolutely 
sacred  from  labor  and  recreations  with  all  the  strictness  enjoined 
in  the  Mosaic  ritual ;  I  believe  the  cramped  and  weary  toiler 
through  six  days  of  each  week  may  better  walk  or  ride  out  with 
his  children  and  breathe  fresh,  pure  air  on  Sunday  than  not  at  all ; 
yet  this  French  use  of  the  Christian  Sabbath  as  a  mere  fete  day,  or 
holiday,  impresses  me  very  unfavorably.  Half  the  stores  are  open 
on  that  day ;  men  are  cutting  stone  and  doing  all  manner  of  work 
as  on  other  days ;  the  journals  are  published,  offices  open,  business 
transacted ;  only  there  is  more  hilarity,  more  dancing,  more  drink 
ing,  more  theatre-going,  more  dissipation,  than  on  any  other  day 
of  the  week.  I  suspect  that  Labor  gets  no  more  pay  in  the  long 
run  for  seven  days'  work  per  week  than  it  would  for  six,  and  that 
Morality  suffers,  and  Philanthropy  is  more  languid  than  it  would 
be  if  one  day  in  each  week  were  generally  welcomed  as  a  day  of 
rest  and  woiship." 


420  HORACE   GRERLEY  IN   A   FRENCH   PRISON. 

FRENCH   AGRICULTURE. 

"  A  Yankee  here  lately  said  to  a  Frenchman :  '  I  am  amazed  that 
your  people  continue  to  cut  grass  with  that  short,  clumsy,  wide- 
bladed,  straight-handled,  eleventh-century  implement,  when  we  in 
America  have  scythes  scarcely  dearer  which  cut  twice  as  fast.' 
1  Why,  you  see,'  responded  Monsieur,  '  while  you  have  less  labor 
than  you  need,  we  have  far  more  ;  so  that  while  it  is  your  study 
to  economize  human  exertion,  it  is  ours  to  find  employment  for 
our  surplus.  We  have  probably  twice  as  many  laborers  as  we 
need.'  '  Then,'  persisted  Jonathan,  '  your  true  course  would  seem 
to  be  to  break  your  scythes  in  two  and  work  them  at  half  their 
present  length,  thus  adjusting  your  implements  to  your  work, 
since  you  are  confessedly  unable  to  find  work  enough  for  your  la 
borers,  even  with  the  wretched  implements  you  now  use.'  Mon 
sieur  did  not  see  the  matter  in  this  light,  and  the  stream  of  conver 
sation  flowed  into  another  channel. 

"Now,  while  otherwise  sensible  Frenchmen  actually  believe  that 
labor  is  here  in  excess,  there  is  at  this  hour  a  pressing  need  of  all  the 
surplus  labor  of  France  for  the  next  forty  years  to  be  absorbed  in 
the  proper  drainage  of  her  soil  alone.  For  want  of  this,  whole 
districts  are  submerged  or  turned  to  marsh  for  three  or  four  months 
between  November  and  April,  obstructing  labor,  loading  the  air 
with  unwholesome  humidity,  and  subjecting  the  peasantry  to 
fevers  and  other  diseases.  Thorough  draining  alone  would  im 
mensely  increase  the  annual  product,  the  wealth,  and  ultimately, 
by  promoting  health  and  diffusing  plenty,  even  the  population  of 
France. 

"  So  with  regard  to  ploughing.  It  is  not  quite  so  bad  here  as  in 
Spain,  where  a  friend  this  season  saw  peasants  ploughing  with  an 
implement  composed  of  two  clumsy  sticks  of  wood,  one  of  which 
(the  horizontal)  worked  its  way  through  the  earth  after  the  man 
ner  of  a  hog's  snout,  while  the  other,  inserted  in  the  former  at  a 
convenient  angle,  served  as  a  handle,  being  guided  by  the  plough 
man's  left  hand,  while  he  managed  the  team  with  his  right.  With 
this  relic  of  the  good  old  days  the  peasant  may  have  annoyed  and 
irritated  a  rood  of  ground  per  day  to  the  depth  of  three  inches ; 
and,  as  care  is  taken  not  to  afflict  in  this  fashion  any  field  that  can 
not  be  irrigated,  he  may  possibly,  by  the  conjunction  of  good  luck 


FRENCH   AGRICULTURE.  421 

with  laborious  culture,  obtain  half  a  crop.  It  is  a  safe  guess  that 
this  cultivator,  living  the  year  round  on  black  bread  moistened  with 
weak  vinegar  or  rancid  oil,  because  unable  to  live  better,  cherishes 
a  supreme  contempt  for  all  such  quackery  and  humbug  as  book- 
farming. 

"  France  has  naturally  a  magnificent  soil.  I  prefer  it,  all  things 
considered,  to  that  of  our  own  Western  States.  We  have  much 
land  that  is  richer  at  the  outset,  but  very  little  that  will  hold  its 
own  in  defiance  of  maltreatment  so  Well  as  this  -does.  Lime 
abounds  here  in  every  form,  —  the  railroads  are  often  cut  through 
hills  of  loose  chalk,  —  and  very  much  of  the  subsoil  in  this  vicinity 
appears  to  be  a  rotten  limestone  or  gypsum,  but  is  said  to  be  a  ma 
rine  deposit,  proved  such  by  the  infinity  of  shells  therein  imbed 
ded.  There  is  not  a  particle  of  stone  in  the  surface  soil ;  the  rotten 
gypsum  is,  for  the  most  part,  easily  traversed  by  the  plough,  though 
at  a  depth  of  ten  to  twenty  feet  the  same  original  formation  may 
be  found  hard  enough  to  quarry  into  building-stone.  To  re-enforce 
such  a  soil,  after  the  exhaustion  produced  by  a  hundred  grain-crops 
in  succession,  it  is  only  requisite  to  run  the  plough  two  inches  deeper 
than  it  has  hither  gone,  —  a  process  urgently  desirable  on  other 
grounds  than  this.  I  never  before  observed  land  so  thoroughly 
fortified  against  the  destructive  tendencies  of  human  ignorance, 
indolence,  and  folly.  Then  the  summer -of  France,  as  compared 
with  ours,  is  cool  and  humid,  exposing  grain-crops  to  fewer  dan 
gers  of  smut,  rust,  &c.,  and  breeding  far  fewer  insects  than  does 
ours.  (0  that  there  were  some  power  in  America  adequate  and 
resolved  to  protect  those  best  friends  of  farmers  —  the  birds  — 
against  the  murderous  instincts  of  every  young  ruffian  who  can 
shoulder  a  musket !)  I  have  seldom  seen  finer  wheat  than  grows 
profusely  around  Paris,  and  I  think  this  region  ought  to  average 
more  bushels  to  the  acre,  in  the  course  of  a  century,  than  any  part 
of  the  United  States. 

"  But  French  genius  and  talent  do  not  tend  to  the  soil.  I  must 
have  already  observed  that  the  '  Imperial  School  of  Agriculture  ' 
at  G-rignon,  though  twenty-eight  years  old,  with  1,100  acres  of 
capital  land,  a  choice  stock,  and  well-adapted  buildings,  enters  on 
its  twenty-eighth  year  with  barely  seventy  pupils.  A  kindred  tes 
timony  is  wafted  from  a  '  Reform  School '  in  the  western  part  of 
the  country.  To  this  school  young  reprobates  are  sent  from  the 


422  HORACE    GREELEY    IN    A    FRENCH    PRISON. 

adjacent  cities,  and  made  adepts  in  agriculture  as  a  just  punish 
ment  for  their  sins ;  and  its  last  official  report  boasts  that  the  school 
has  been  conducted  with  such  wisdom  and  success  that  over  half 
of  its  graduates  have  enlisted  in  the  army  !  There  's  a  climax  for 
you ! " 

While  he  was  engaged  in  visiting  the  interesting  objects  of  the 
French  metropolis,  he  had  the  novel  experience  of  being  arrested 
for  debt,  and  a  debt  which  he  had  never  contracted.  Mr.  Greeley 
has  related  this  adventure  at  length,  and  in  his  own  way.  The 
following  is  his  narrative  :  — 

THE   ARREST. 

"  I  had  been  looking  at  things  if  not  into  them  for  a  good  many  years  prior 
to  yesterday.  I  had  climbed  mountains  and  descended  into  mines,  had  groped 
in  caves  and  scaled  precipices,  seen  Venice  and  Cincinnati,  Dublin  and  Min 
eral  Point,  Niagara  and  St.  Gothard,  and  really  supposed  I  was  approximating 
a  middling  outside  knowledge  of  things  in  general.  I  had  been  chosen  de 
fendant  in  several  libel  suits,  and  been  flattered  with  the  information  that  my 
censures  were  deemed  of  more  consequence  than  those  of  other  people,  and 
should  be  paid  for  accordingly.  I  had  been  through  twenty  of  our  States,  yet 
never  in  a  jail  outside  of  New  York,  and  over  half  Europe,  yet  never  looked 
into  one.  Here  I  had  been  seeing  Paris  for  the  last  six  weeks,  visiting  this 
sight,  then  that,  till  there  seemed  little  remaining  worth  looking  at  or  after,  — 
yet  I  had  never  once  thought  of  looking  into  a  debtors'  prison,  I  should 
probably  have  gone  away  next  week,  as  ignorant  in  that  regard  as  I  came, 
when  circumstances  favored  me  most  unexpectedly  with  an  inside  view  of 
this  famous  '  Maison  de  Detention,'  or  Prison  for  Debtors,  70  Rue  de  Clichy. 
I  think  what  I  have  seen  here,  fairly  told,  must  be  instructive  and  interesting, 
and  I  suppose  others  will  tell  the  story  if  I  do  not,  —  and  I  don't  know  any 
one  whose  opportunities  will  enable  him  to  tell  it  so  accurately  as  I  can.  So 
here  goes. 

u  But  first  let  me  explain  and  insist  on  the  important  distinction  between  in 
side  and  outside  views  of  a  prison.  People  fancy  they  have  been  in  a  prison 
where  they  have  by  courtesy  been  inside  of  the  gates ;  but  that  is  properly 
an  outside  view,  —  at  best,  the  view  accorded  to  an  outsider.  It  gives  you  no 
proper  idea  of  the  place  at  all,  —  no  access  to  its  penetralia.  The  difference 
even  between  this  outside  and  the  proper  inside  view  is  very  broad  indeed. 
The  greenness  of  those  who  don't  know  how  the  world  looks  from  the  wrong 
side  of  the  gratings  is  pitiable.  Yet  how  many  reflect  on  the  disdain  with 
which  the  lion  must  regard  the  bumpkin  who  perverts  his  goadstick  to  the 
ignoble  use  of  stirring  said  lion  up !  or  how  many  suspect  that  the  grin  wh»re- 
with  the  baboon  contemplates  the  human  ape  who  with  umbrella  at  arm':} 


THE   ARREST.  423 

length  is  poking  Jocko  for  his  doxy's  delectation,  is  one  of  contempt  rather 
than  complacency !  Rely  on  it,  the  world  seen  here  behind  the  gratings  is 
very  different  in  aspect  from  that  same  world  otherwise  inspected.  Others 
may  think  so,  —  I  know  it.  And  this  is  how. 

"  I  had  been  down  at  the  Palace  of  Industry  and  returned  to  my  lodgings, 
when,  a  little  before  four  o'clock  yesterday  afternoon,  four  strangers  called  for 
me.  By  the  help  of  my  courier,  I  soon  learned  that  they  had  a  writ  of  arrest 
for  me  at  the  suit  or  one  Mons.  Lechesne,  sculptor,  affirming  that  he  sent  a 
statue  to  the  New  York  Crystal  Palace  Exhibition,  at  or  on  the  way  to  which 
it  had  been  broken,  so  that  it  could  not  be  (at  all  events  it  had  not  been)  re 
stored  to  him ;  wherefore  he  asked  of  me,  as  a  director  and  representative  of 
the  Crystal  Palace  Association,  to  pay  him  '  douze  mille  francs,'  or  $2,500. 
Not  happening  to  have  the  change,  and  no  idea  of  paying  this  demand  if  I 
had  it,  I  could  only  signify  those  facts;  whereupon  they  told  me  that  I  was 
under  arrest,  and  must  go  along,  which  I  readily  did.  We  drove  circuitously 
to  the  sculptor's  residence  at  the  other  end  of  Paris,  waited  his  convenience 
for  a  long  half-hour,  and  then  went  to  the  President  Judge  who  had  issued 
the  writ.  I  briefly  explained  to  him  my  side  of  the  case,  when  he  asked  me 
if  I  wished  to  give  bail,  i  told  him  I  would  give  good  bail  for  my  appearance 
at  court  at  any  time,  but  that  I  knew  no  man  in  Paris  whom  I  felt  willing  to 
ask  to  become  my  security  for  the  payment  of  so  large  a  sum  as  $  2,500. 
After  a  little  parley  I  named  Judge  Piatt,  United  States  Secretary  of  Legation, 
as  one  who,  I  felt  confident,  would  recognize  for  my  appearance  when  wanted, 
and  this  suggestion  met  with  universal  assent.  Twice  over  I  carefully  ex 
plained  that  I  preferred  going  to  prison  to  asking  any  friend  to  give  bail  for 
the  payment  in  any  case  of  this  claim,  and  knew  I  was  fully  understood.  So 
we  all,  except  the  judge,  drove  off  together  to  the  Legation. 

"  There  we  found  Judge  P.,  who  readily  agreed  to  recognize  as  I  required; 
but  now  the  plaintiff  and  his  lawyer  refused  to  accept  him  as  security  in  any 
way,  alleging  that  he  was  privileged  from  arrest  by  his  office.  He  offered  to 
give  his  check  on  Greene  &  Co.,  bankers,  for  the  12,000  francs  in  dispute  as 
security  for  my  appearance;  but  they  would  not  have  him  in  any  shape. 
While  we  were  chaffering,  Mr.  Maunsell  B.  Field,  United  States  Commissioner 
in  the  French  Exposition,  came  along,  and  offered  to  join  Mr.  Piatt  in  the 
recognizance ;  but  nothing  would  do.  Mr.  Field  then  offered  to  raise  the  money 
demanded;  but  I  said,  No,  if  the  agreement  before  the  judge  was  not  ad 
hered  to  by  the  other  side,  I  would  give  no  bail  whatever,  but  go  to  prison. 
High  words  ensued,  and  the  beginning  of  a  scuffle,  in  the  midst  of  which  I, 
half  unconsciously,  descended  from  the  carriage.  Of  course  I  was  ordered 
back  instanter,  and  obeyed  so  soon  as  I  understood  the  order,  but  we  were  all 
by  this  time  losing  temper.  As  putting  me  in  jail  would  simply  secure  my 
forthcoming  when  wanted,  and  as  I  was  ready  to  give  any  amount  of  security 
for  this,  which  the  other  side  had  once  agreed  to  take,  I  thought  they  were 
rather  crowding  matters  in  the  course  they  were  taking.  So,  as  I  was  making 
my  friends  too  late  for  a  pleasant  dinner-party  at  Trois  Freres,  where  I  had 
expected  to  join  them,  I  closed  the  discussion  by  insisting  that  we  should 
drive  off. 


424  HORACE   GREELEY   IN   A   FRENCH   PRISON. 

"  Crossing  the  Avenue  Champs  Elysdes  the  next  moment,  our  horses  struck 
another  horse,  took  fright,  and  ran  until  reined  up  against  a  tree,  disabling  the 
concern.  My  cortege  of  officers  got  out;  I  attempted  to  follow,  but  was 
thrust  back  very  roughly  and  held  in  with  superfluous  energy,  since  they  had 
had  abundant  opportunity  to  see  that  I  had  no  idea  of  getting  away  from 
them.  I  had  in  fact  evinced  ample  determination  to  enjoy  their  delightful 
society  to  the  utmost.  At  last,  they  had  to  transfer  me  to  another  carriage, 
but  they  made  such  a  parade  of  it,  and  insisted  on  taking  hold  of  me  so 
numerously  and  so  fussily  (this  being  just  the  most  thronged  and  conspicuous 
locality  in  Paris),  that  I  came  near  losing  my  temper  again.  We  got  along, 
however,  and  in  due  time  arrived  at  this  spacious,  substantial,  secure  estab 
lishment,  No.  70  Rue  de  Clichy. 

"  I  was  brought  in  through  three  or  four  heavy  iron  doors  to  the  office  of  the 
Governor,  where  I  was  properly  received.  Here  I  was  told  I  must  stay  till 
nine  o'clock,  since  the  President  Judge  had  allowed  me  till  that  hour  to  find 
bail.  In  vain  I  urged  that  I  had  refused  to  give  bail,  would  give  none,  and 
•wanted  to  be  shown  to  my  cell,  —  I  must  stay  here  till  nine  o'clock.  So  I 
ordered  something  for  dinner,  and  amused  myself  by  looking  at  the  ball  play, 
&c.,  of  the  prisoners  in  the  yard,  to  whose  immunities  I  was  not  yet  eligible, 
but  I  had  the  privilege  of  looking  in  through  the  barred  windows.  The  yard 
is  one  of  the  best  I  have  ever  seen  anywhere,  has  a  good  many  trees  and  some 
flowers,  and,  as  the  wall  is  at  least  fifteen  feet  high,  and  another  of  twenty 
surrounding  it,  with  guards  with  loaded  muskets  always  pacing  between,  I 
should  judge  the  danger  of  burglary  or  other  annoyances  from  without  very 
moderate. 

"  My  first  visitor  was  Judge  Mason,  U.  S.  Embassador,  accompanied  by 
Mr.  Kirby,  one  of  the  attache's  of  the  Embassy.  Judge  M.  had  heard  of  my 
luck  from  the  Legation,  and  was  willing  to  serve  me  to  any  extent,  and  in  any 
manner.  I  was  reminded  by  my  position  of  the  case  of  the  prying  Yankee  who 
undertook  to  fish  out  a  gratuitous  opinion  on  a  knotty  point  in  a  lawsuit  in  which 
he  was  involved.  '  Supposing,'  said  he  to  an  eminent  counsellor,  you  were  in 
volved  in  such  and  such  a  difficulty,  what  would  you  do?  '  'Sir,'  said  the 
counsellor  with  becoming  gravity,  '  I  should  take  the  very  best  legal  advice  I 
could  obtain.'  I  told  Judge  M.  that  I  wanted  neither  money  nor  bail,  but  a 
first-rate  French  lawyer,  who  could  understand  my  statements  in  English,  at 
the  very  earliest  moment.  Judge  M.  left  to  call  on  Mr.  James  Munroe,  banker, 
find  send  me  a  lawyer  as  soon  as  could  be.  This  was  done,  but  it  was  eight 
o'clock  on  Saturday  night,  before  which  hour  at  this  season  most  eminent 
Parisians  have  left  for  their  country  residences;  and  no  lawyer  of  the  proper 
stamp  and  standing  could  then  be  or  has  yet  been  found. 

THE    INCARCERATION. 

"  At  the  designated  hour  I  was  duly  installed  and  admitted  to  all  the  privi 
leges  of  Clichy.  By  ten  o'clock  each  of  us  lodgers  had  retired  to  our  several 
apartments  (about  eight  feet  by  five),  and  an  obliging  functionary  came  around 


THE   INCARCEKATION.  425 

and  locked  out  all  rascally  intruders.  I  don't  think  I  ever  before  slept  in 
a  place  so  perfectly  secure.  At  six  this  morning  this  extra  protection  was 
withdrawn,  and  each  of  us  was  thenceforth  obliged  to  keep  watch  over  his 
own  valuables.  We  uniformly  keep  good  hours  here  in  Clichy,  which  is  what 
not  many  large  hotels  in  Paris  can  boast  of. 

"  The  bedroom  appointments  are  not  of  a  high  order,  as  is  reasonable,  since 
we  are  only  charged  for  them  four  sous  (cents)  per  night,  washing  extra.  The 
sheets  are  rather  of  a  hickory  order  (mine  were  given  me  clean);  the  bed  is 
indifferent,  but  I  have  slept  on  worse ;  the  window  lacks  a  curtain  or  blinds, 
but  in  its  stead  there  are  four  strong  upright  iron  bars,  which  are  a  perfect 
safeguard  against  getting  up  in  the  night  and  pitching  or  falling  out  so  as  to 
break  your  neck,  as  any  one  who  went  out  would  certainly  do.  (I  am  in 
the  fifth  or  highest  story.)  Perhaps  one  of  my  predecessors  was  a  somnam~ 
bulist.  I  have  two  chairs  (one  less  than  I  am  entitled  to),  two  little  tables 
(probably  one  of  them  extra,  by  some  mistake),  and  a  cupboard  which  may 
once  have  been  clean.  The  pint  washbowl  and  half-pint  pitcher,  candles, 
&c.,  I  have  ordered  and  pay  for.  I  am  a  little  ashamed  to  own  that  my 
repose  has  been  indifferent;  but  then  I  never  do  sleep  well  in  a  strange 
place. 

"  Descending  to  the  common  room  on  the  lower  floor  this  morning,  I  find 
there  an  American  (from  Boston),  who  has  met  me  often  and  knew  me  at 
once,  though  I  could  not  have  called  him  by  name.  He  seemed  rather 
amazed  to  meet  me  here  (I  believe  he  last  before  saw  me  at  the  Astor  House), 
but  greeted  me  very  cordially,  and  we  ordered  breakfast  for  both  in  my  room. 
It  was  not  a  sumptuous  meal,  but  we  enjoyed  it.  Next  he  made  me  ac 
quainted  with  some  other  of  our  best  fellow-lodgers,  and  four  of  us  agreed  to 
dine  together  after  business  hours.  Before  breakfast,  a  friend  from  the  outer 
world  (M.  Vattemare)  had  found  access  to  me,  though  the  rules  of  the  prison 
allow  no  visitors  till  ten  o'clock.  I  needed  first  of  all  lawyers,  not  yet  pro 
curable;  next  law-books  (American),  which  Mr.  Vattemare  knew  just  where 
to  lay  his  hands  on.  I  had  them  all  on  hand  and  my  citations  looked  up  long 
before  I  had  any  help  to  use  them.  But  let  my  own  affairs  wait  a  little  till  I 
dispense  some  of  my  gleanings  in  Clichy. 

"  This  is  perhaps  the  only  large  dwelling-house  in  Paris  where  no  one  ever 
suffers  from  hunger.  Each  person  incarcerated  is  allowed  a  franc  per  day  to 
live  on ;  if  this  is  not  forthcoming  from  his  creditor,  he  is  at  once  turned  out 
to  pick  up  a  living  as  he  can.  While  he  remains  here  he  must  have  his  franc 
per  day,  paid  every  third  day.  From  this  is  deducted  four  sous  per  day  for 
his  bedding,  and  one  sou  for  his  fire  (in  the  kitchen),  leaving  him  fifteen  sous 
net  and  cooking  fire  paid  for.  This  will  keep  him  in  bread  any  how.  But 
there  exists  among  the  prisoners,  and  is  always  maintained,  a  '  Philanthropic 
Society,'  which,  by  cooking  altogether  and  dividing  into  messes,  is  enabled 
to  give  every  subscriber  to  its  articles  a  very  fair  dinner  for  sixteen  sous 
(eleven  cents),  and  a  scantier  one  for  barely  nine  sous.  He  who  has  no  friends 
but  the  inevitable  franc  per  day  may  still  have  a  nine-sous  dinner  almost 
every  day  and  a  sixteen-sous  feast  on  Sunday,  by  living  on  bread  and  water 


426  HORACE    GREELEY   IN   A   FRENCH   PRISON. 

or  being  so  sick  as  not  to  need  anything  for  a  couple  of  days  each  week.  I 
regret  to  say  that  the  high  price  of  food  of  late  has  cramped  the  resources  of 
the  '  Philanthropic  Society,'  so  that  it  has  been  obliged  to  appeal  to  the  public 
for  aid.  I  trust  it  will  not  appeal  in  vain.  It  is  an  example  of  the  advantage 
of  association,  whose  benefits  no  one  will  dispute. 

"  I  never  met  a  more  friendly  and  social  people  than  the  inmates  of  Clichy. 
Before  I  had  been  up  two  hours  this  morning,  though  most  of  them  speak  only 
French  and  I  but  English,  the  outlines  of  my  case  were  generally  known,  my 
character  and  standing  canvassed  and  dilated  on,  and  I  had  a  dozen  fast  friends 
in  another  hour;  had  I  been  able  to  speak  French,  they  would  have  been  a 
hundred.  Of  course,  we  are  not  all  saints  here,  and  make  no  pretensions  to 
bo;  some  of  us  are  incorrigible  spendthrifts,  —  desperately  fast  men,  hurried 
to  ruin  by  association  with  still  faster  women,  —  probably  some  unlucky 
rogues  among  us,  and  very  likely  a  fool  or  two;  though  as  a  class  I  am  sure 
my  associates  will  compare  favorably  in  intelligence  and  intellect  with  so 
many  of  the  next  men  you  meet  on  the  Boulevards  or  in  Broadway.  Several  of 
them  are  men  of  decided  ability  and  energy,  —  the  temporary  victims  of  other 
men's  rascality  or  their  own  over-sanguine  enterprise,  —  sometimes  of  ship 
wreck,  fire,  or  other  unavoidable  misfortune.  A  more  hearty  and  kindly  set 
of  men  I  never  met  in  my  life  than  are  those  who  can  speak  English  ;  I  have 
acquired  important  help  from  three  or  four  of  them  in  copying  and  translating 
papers;  and  never  was  I  more  zealously  nor  effectively  aided  than  by  these 
acquaintances  of  to-day,  to  not  one  of  whom  would  I  dare  to  offer  money  for 
the  service.  Where  could  I  match  this  out  of  Clichy? 

"  Let  me  be  entirely  candid.  I  say  nothing  of  '  Liberty,'  save  to  caution 
outsiders  in  France  to  be  equally  modest,  but  '  Equality  and  Fraternity '  I 
have  found  prevailing  here  more  thoroughly  than  elsewhere  in  Europe.  Still, 
we  have  not  realized  the  Social  Millennium,  even  in  Clichy.  Some  of  us 
were  born  to  gain  our  living  by  the  hardest  and  most  meagrely  rewarded  labor^ 
others  to  live  idly  and  sumptuously  on  the  earnings  of  others.  Of  course, 
these  vices  of  an  irrational  and  decaying  social  state  are  not  instantly  eradi 
cated  by  our  abrupt  removal  to  this  mansion.  Some  of  us  cook,  while  others 
only  know  how  to  eat,  and  so  require  assistance  in  the  preparation  of  our  food, 
as  none  is  cooked  or  even  provided  for  us,  and  our  intercourse  with  the  outei 
world  is  subject  to  limitations.  Those  of  us  who  lived  generously  aforetime, 
and  are  in  for  gentlemanly  sums,  are  very  apt  to  have  money  which  the  luck 
less  chaps  who  are  in  for  a  beggarly  hundred  francs  or  so,  and  have  no  fixed 
income  beyond  the  franc  per  day,  are  very  glad  to  earn  by  doing  us  acts  of 
kindness.  One  of  these  attached  himself  to  me  immediately  on  my  taking 
possession  of  my  apartment,  and  proceeded  to  make  my  bed,  bring  me  basin 
and  pitcher  of  water,  matches,  lights,  &c.,  for  which  I  expect  to  pay  him,  — 
these  articles  being  reckoned  superfluities  in  Clichy.  But  no  such  aristocratic 
distinction  as  master,  no  such  degrading  appellation  as  servant,  is  tolerated  in 
this  community;  this  philanthropic  fellow-boarder  is  known  to  all  as  my 
'  auxiliary.'  Where  has  the  stupid  world  outside  known  how  to  drape  the 
hard  realities  of  life  with  fig-leaf  so  graceful  as  this  ? 


THE    INCARCERATION.  427 

"  So  of  all  titular  distinctions.  We  pretend  to  have  abjured  titles  of  honor  in 
America,  and  the  only  consequence  is  that  everybody  has  a  title,  —  either 
Honorable,  or  General,  or  Colonel,  or  Reverend,  or  at  the  very  least  Esquire. 
But  here  in  Clichy  alt  such  empty  and  absurd  prefixes  are  absolutely  un 
known,  —  even  names,  Christian  or  family,  are  discarded  as  useless,  antiquated 
lumber.  Every  lodger  is  known  by  the  number  of  his  room  only;  mine  is 
139;  and  whenever  a  friend  calls,  a  '  Commissionaire  '  comes  in  from  the  outer 
apartments  to  the  great  hall  sacred  to  our  common  use,  and  begins  calling  out, 
'  Cent-trente-neuf '  (phonetically  '  sent-tran-nuf '),  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  and 
goes  on  yelling  as  he  climbs,  in  the  hope  of  finding  or  calling  me  short  of 
ascending  to  my  fifth-story  sanctuary.  To  nine  tenths  of  my  comrades  I  am  only 
known  as  '  san-tran-nuf.'  My  auxiliary  is  No.  54,  and  when  I  need  his  aid  I 
go  singing  '  Sankan-cat,'  after  the  same  fashion.  Equality  being  thus  rigidly 
preserved,  in  spite  of  slight  diversities  of  fortune,  the  jealousies,  rivalries,  and 
heart-burnings  which  keep  most  of  mankind  in  a  ferment  are  here  absolutely 
unknown.  I  never  before  talked  so  much  with  so  many  people  intimately 
acquainted  with  each  other  without  hearing  something  said  or  insinuated  to 
one  another's  prejudice ;  here  there  is  nothing  of  the  sort.  Some  folks  out 
side  are  here  fitted  with  characters  which  they  would  hardly  consider  flatter- 
in-g,  —  some  laws  and  usages  get  the  blessings  they  richly  deserve,  —  but 
among  ourselves  all  is  harmony  and  good-will.  How  would  Meurice's,  tho 
Hotel  de  Ville,  or  even  the  Tuileries,  like  to  compare  notes  with  us  on  this 
head? 

"  Our  social  intercourse  with  outsiders  is  under  most  enlightened  regula 
tions.  A  person  calls  who  wishes  to  see  one  of  us,  and  is  thereupon  admitted 
through  two  or  three  doors,  but  not  within  several  locks  of  us.  Here  he  gives 
his  card  and  pays  two  sous  to  a  Commissionaire  to  take  it  to  No.  — ,  of  whom 
the  interview  is  solicited.  No.  —  being  found,  takes  the  card,  scrutinizes  it, 
and,  if  he  chooses  to  see  the  expected  visitor,  writes  a  request  for  his  admission. 
This  is  taken  to  a  functionary,  who  grants  the  request,  and  the  visitor  is  then 
brought  into  a  sort  of  neutral  reception-room,  outside  of  the  prison  proper, 
but  a  good  way  inside  of  the  hall  wherein  the  visitor  has  hitherto  tarried. 
But  let  the  lodger  say  No,  and  the  visitor  must  instantly  walk  out  with  a  very 
tall  flea  in  his  ear.  So  perfect  an  arrangement  for  keeping  duns,  bores  (writ- 
servers  even),  and  all  such  enemies  of  human  happiness  at  a  distance  is  found 
scarcely  anywhere  else,  —  at  all  events  not  in  editors'  rooms,  I  am  sure  of 
that.  But  yesterday  an  old  resident  here,  who  ought  to  have  been  up  to 
the  trap,  was  told  that  a  man  wished  to  see  him  a  moment  at  the  nearest 
grate,  and,  being  completely  off  his  guard,  he  went  immediately  down,  with 
out  observing  or  requiring  the  proper  formalities,  and  was  instantly  served 
with  a  fresh  wriU  '  Sir,'  said  he,  with  proper  indignation,  to  the  sneak  of  an 
officer  (who  had  doubtless  made  his  way  in  here  by  favor  or  bribery),  'if 
you  ever  serve  me  that  trick  again,  you  will  go  out  of  here  half  killed.' 
However,  he  had  mainly  his  own  folly  to  blame;  he  should  have  stood  upon 
his  reserved  rights,  and  bade  the  outsider  send  up  his  card  like  a  gentleman, 
if  he  aspired  to  a  gentleman's  society. 


428  HORACE    GREELEY   IN   A    FRENCH   PRISON. 

"  And  this  brings  me  to  the  visiting-room,  where  I  have  seen  very  many 
friends  during  the  day,  including  two  United  States  Ministers,  beside  almost 
every  one  belonging  to  our  Legation  here,  three  bankers,  and  nearly  all  the 
Americans  I  know  in  Paris,  but  not  one  French  lawyer  of  the  standing  re 
quired,  for  it  seems  impossible  to  find  one  in  Paris  to-day.  This  room  can 
hardly  be  called  a  parlor,  all  things  considered;  but  it  has  been  crowded  all 
day  (ten  to  six)  with  wives  and  female  friends  visiting  one  or  other  of  us 
insiders,  —  perhaps  it  may  be  most  accurately  characterized  as  the  kissing- 
room.  I  should  like  to  speak  of  the  phases  of  life  here  from  hour  to  hour 
presented,  —  of  the  demonstrations  of  fervent  affection,  the  anxious  consola 
tions,  the  confidential  whisperings,  and  the  universal  desire  of  each  hasty 
tete-a-tete  to  res-pect  the  sacredness  of  others'  confidence,  BO  that  fifteen  or 
twenty  couples  converse  here  by  the  hour  within  a  space  thirty  feet  by 
twenty,  yet  no  one  knows,  because  no  one  wishes  to  know,  what  any  other 
couple  are  saying.  But  I  must  hurry  over  all  this,  or  my  letter  will  never 
have  an  end. 

"  Formerly,  Clichy  was  in  bad  repute  on  account  of  the  facility  wherewith 
all  manner  of  females  called  upon  and  mingled  with  the  male  lodgers  in  the 
inner  sanctum.  All  this,  however,  has  been  corrected ;  and  no  woman  is  now 
admitted  beyond  the  public  kissing-room  except  on  an  express  order  from  the 
Prefecture  of  Police,  which  is  only  granted  to  the  well-authenticated  wife  or 
child  of  an  inmate.  (The  female  prison  is  in  an  entirely  separate  wing  of  the 
building.)  The  enforcement  of  this  rule  is  most  rigid;  and,  while  I  am  not 
inclined  to  be  vainglorious,  and  do  not  doubt  that  other  large  domiciles  in 
Paris  are  models  of  propriety  and  virtue,  yet  this  I  do  say,  that  the  domestic 
morals  of  Clichy  may  safely  challenge  a  comparison  with  those  of  Paris 
generally.  I  might  put  the  case  more  strongly,  but  it  is  best  to  keep  within 
the  truth. 

"  So  with  regard  to  liquor.  They  keep  saying  there  is  no  Prohibitory  Law 
in  France ;  but  they  mistake,  if  Clichy  is  in  France.  No  ardent  spirits  are 
brought  into  this  well-regulated  establishment,  unless  for  medical  use,  except 
in  express  violation  of  law;  and  the  search  and  seizure  clauses  here  are  a 
great  deal  more  rigorous  and  better  enforced  than  in  Maine.  I  know  a  little 
is  smuggled  in  notwithstanding,  mainly  by  officials,  for  money  goes  a  great 
way  in  France;  but  no  woman  comes  in  without  being  felt  all  over  (by  a 
woman)  for  concealed  bottles  of  liquor.  There  was  a  small  flask  on  our 
(private)  dinner-table  to-day  of  what  was  called  brandy,  and  smelt  like  a 
compound  of  spirits  of  turpentine  and  diluted  aqua-fortis  (for  adulteration 
is  a  vice  which  prevails  even  here);  but  not  a  glass  is  now  smuggled  in  where 
a  gallon  used  to  come  in  boldly  under  the  protection  of  law.  Wine,  being 
here  esteemed  a  necessary,  is  allowed  in  moderation ;  no  inmate  to  have  more 
than  one  bottle  per  day  either  of  ten-sous  or  twenty-sous  wine,  according  to 
his  taste  or  means,  —  no  better  and  no  more.  I  don't  defend  the  consistency 
of  these  regulations;  we  do  some  things  better  in  America  than  even  in 
Clichy;  but  here  drunkenness  is  absolutely  prevented  and  riotous  living  sup 
pressed  by  a  sumptuary  law  far  more  stringent  than  any  of  our  States  ever 


THE   INCARCERATION.  429 

tried.  And,  mind  you,  this  is  no  criminal  prison,  but  simply  a  house  of  deten 
tion  for  those  who  happen  to  have  less  money  than  others  would  like  to  ex 
tract  from  their  pockets,  many  of  whom  do  not  pay  simply  because  they  do 
not  owe.  So,  if  any  one  tells  you  again  that  Liquor  Prohibition  is  a  Yankee 
novelty,  just  ask  him  what  he  knows  of  Clichy. 

"  I  know  that  cookery  is  a  point  of  honor  with  the  French,  and  rightly, 
for  they  approach  it  with  the  inspiration  of  genius.  Sad  am  I  to  say  that  I 
find  no  proof  of  this  eminence  in  Clichy,  and  am  forced  to  the  conclusion  that 
to  be  in  debt  and  unable  to  pay  does  not  qualify  even  a  Frenchman  in  the  culi 
nary  art.  My  auxiliary  doubtless  does  his  best,  but  his  resources  are  limited, 
and  fifty  fellows  dancing  round  one  range,  with  only  a  few  pots  and  kettles 
among  them,  probably  confuses  him.  Even  our  dinner  to-day  (four  of  us  — 
two  Yankees,  an  English  merchant,  and  an  Italian  banker  —  dined  en  famille 
in  No.  98),  on  what  we  ordered  from  an  out-door  restaurant  (such  are  the 
prejudices  of  education  and  habit),  and  paid  fifty  sous  each  for,  did  not 
seem  to  be  the  thing.  The  gathering  of  knives,  forks,  spoons,  bottles,  &c., 
from  Nos.  82,  63,  and  139,  to  set  the  common  table,  was  the  freshest  feature 
of  the  spread. 

"  The  sitting  was  nevertheless  a  pleasant  one,  and  an  Englishman  joined 
us  after  the  cloth  was  (figuratively)  removed,  who  was  much  the  cleverest 
man  of  the  party.  This  man's  case  is  so  instructive  that  I  must  make  room 
for  it.  He  has  been  everywhere  and  knows  everything,  bu-t  is  especially 
strong  in  Chemistry  and  Metallurgy.  A  few  weeks  ago  he  was  a  coke-burner 
at  Rouen,  doing  an  immense  and  profitable  business,  till  a  heavy  debtor 
failed,  which  frightened  his  partner  into  running  off  with  all  the  cash  of  the 
concern,  and  my  friend  was  compelled  to  stop  payment.  He  called  together 
the  creditors,  eighty  in  number  (their  banker  alone  was  in  for  forty-five 
thousand  francs),  and  said, '  Here  is  my  case;  appoint  your  own  receiver,  con 
duct  the  business  wisely,  and  all  will  be  paid.'  Every  man  at  once  assented, 
and  the  concern  was  at  once  put  in  train  of  liquidation.  But  a  discharged 
employee  of  the  concern,  at  this  moment  owing  it  fifteen  thousand  francs  now 
in  judgment,  said, '  Here  is  my  chance  for  revenge ' ;  so  he  had  my  friend 
arrested  and  put  here  as  a  foreign  debtor,  though  he  has  been  for  years  in 
most  extensive  business  in  France,  and  was,  up  to  the  date  of  his  bankruptcy, 
paying  the  government  fifteen  hundred  francs  for  annual  license  for  the 
privilege  of  employing  several  hundred  Frenchmen  in  transforming  valueless 
peat  into  coke.  He  will  get  out  by  and  by,  and  may  prosecute  his  per 
secutor,  but  the  latter  is  utterly  irresponsible;  and  meantime  a  most  ex 
tensive  business  is  being  wound  up  at  Rouen  by  a  receiver,  with  the  only 
man  qualified  to  oversee  and  direct  the  affair  in  close  jail  at  Paris.  This 
is  but  one  case  among  many  such.  I  always  hated  and  condemned  imprison 
ment  for  debt  untainted  by  fraud,  —  above  all,  for  suspicion  of  debt,  — but  I 
never  so  well  knew  why  I  hated  it  as  now. 

"  There  are  other  cases  and  classes  very  different  from  this,  —  gay  lads, 
who  are  working  out  debts  which  they  never  would  have  paid  otherwise  ;  for 
here  in  Clichy  every  man  actually  adjudged  guilty  of  indebtedness  is  sen- 


430  HORACE    GREELEY   IN   A    FRENCH    PRISON. 

teuced  to  stay  a  certain  term,  in  the  discretion  of  the  court,  never  more  than 
ten  years.  The  creditors  of  some  would  like  to  coax  them  out  to-morrow,  but 
they  are  not  so  soft  as  to  go  until  the  debt  is  worked  out,  —  so  far,  that  is, 
that  they  can  never  again  be  imprisoned  for  it.  The  first  question  asked  of 
a  new-comer  is,  '  Have  you  ever  been  here  before  V  '  and  if  he  answers, '  Yes,' 
the  books  are  consulted;  and  if  this  debt  was  charged  against  him,  then  he  is 
remorselessly  turned  into  the  street.  No  price  would  procure  such  a  man  a 
night's  lodging  in  Clichy.  Some  are  here  who  say  their  lives  were  so  tor 
mented  by  duns  and  writs,  that  they  had  a  friendly  creditor  put  them  here 
for  safety  from  annoyance.  And  some  of  our  humbler  brethren,  I  am  assured, 
having  been  once  here,  and  earned  four  or  five  francs  a  day  as  auxiliaries,  with 
cheap  lodgings  and  a  chance  to  forage  off  the  plates  of  those  they  serve,  ac 
tually  get  themselves  put  in  because  they  can  do  so  well  nowhere  else.  A 
few  days  since,  an  auxiliary,  who  had  aided  and  trusted  a  hard-up  English 
man  forty-eight  francs  on  honor  (all  debts  contracted  here  are  debts  of  honor 
purely,  and  therefore  are  always  paid),  received  a  present  of  five  hundred 
francs  from  the  grateful  obligee,  when,  a  few  days  after,  he  received  ample 
funds  from  his  distant  resources,  paid  everything,  and  went  out  with  flying 
colors. 

"  To  return  to  my  own  matter:  I  have  been  all  day  convincing  one  party 
of  friends  after  another  as  they  called,  that  I  do  not  yet  need  their  generous 
ly  proffered  money  or  names,  —  that  I  will  put  up  no  security,  and  take  no  step 
whatever,  until  I  can  consult  a  good  French  lawyer,  see  where  I  stand,  and 
get  a  judicial  hearing  if  possible.  I  know  the  Judge  did  not  mean  nor  ex 
pect  that  I  should  be  sent  here,  when  I  left  his  presence  last  evening;  I  want 
to  be  brought  before  him  forthwith  on  a  plea  of  urgency,  which  cannot  so  well 
be  made  if  I  am  at  liberty.  If  he  says  that  I  am  properly  held  in  duress,  then 
bailing  out  will  do  little  good  ;  for  forty  others  all  about  me  either  have  or 
think  they  have  claims  against  the  Crystal  Palace  for  the  damage  or  non 
return  of  articles  exhibited:  if  I  am  personally  liable  to  these,  all  France  be 
comes  a  prison  to  me.  When  I  have  proper  legal  advice  I  shall  know  what  to 
do;  until  then  it  is  safest  to  do  nothing.  Even  at  the  worst,  I  hate  to  have  any 
one  put  up  12,000  francs  for  me,  as  several  are  willing  to  do,  until  I  am  sure 
there  is  no  alternative.  I  have  seen  so  much  mischief  from  going  security,  that 
I  dread  to  ask  it  when  I  can  possibly  do  without.  '  Help  one  another'  is  a 
good  rule,  but  abominably  abused.  A  man  in  trouble  is  too  apt  to  fly  at  once 
to  his  friends ;  hence  half  a  dozen  get  in  where  there  need  have  been  but  one. 
There  is  no  greater  device  for  multiplying  misery  than  misused  sympathy. 
Better  first  see  if  you  cannot  shoulder  your  own  pack. 

"  OUT  OF  CLICHY,  Monday  eve,  June  4, 1855. 

"  Things  have  worked  to-day  very  much  as  I  had  hoped  and  calculated. 
Friends  had  been  active  in  quest  of  such  lawyers  as  I  needed,  and  two  of  the 
right  .sort  were  with  me  at  a  seasonable  hour  this  morning.  At  three  o'clock 
they  had  a  hearing  before  the  Judge,  and  we  were  all  ready  for  it,  thanks  to 
friends  inside  of  the  gratings  as  well  as  out.  Judge  Piatt's  official  certificate 


THE   INCARCERATION.  431 

as  to  the  laws  of  our  State  governing  the  liability  of  corporators  has  been  of 
vital  service  to  me;  and  when  my  lawyers  asked,  '  Where  is  your  evidence 
that  the  effects  of  the  New  York  Association  are  now  in  the  hands  of  a 
receiver  ? '  I  answered,  '  The  gentleman  who  was  talking  with  me  in  the 
visitors'  room  when  you  came  in  and  took  me  away  knows  that  perfectly; 
perhaps  he  is  still  there.'  I  was  at  once  sent  for  him,  and  found  him  there. 
Thus  all  things  conspired  for  good;  and  at  four  o'clock  my  lawyers  and 
friends  came  to  Clichy  to  bid  me  walk  out,  without  troubling  my  friends  for 
any  security  or  deposit  whatever.  So  I  guess  my  last  chance  of  ever  learn 
ing  French  is  gone  by  the  board. 

"  Possibly  I  have  given  too  much  prominence  to  the  brighter  side  of  life  in 
Clichy,  for  that  seemed  most  to  need  a  discoverer;  let  me  put  a  little  shading 
into  the  picture  at  the  finish.  There  is  a  fair  barber's  shop  in  one  cell  in 
Clichy  which  was  yesterday  in  full  operation;  so,  expecting  to  be  called 
personally  before  the  Judge,  and  knowing  that  I  must  meet  many  friends,  I 
walked  down  stairs  to  be  shaved,  and  was  taken  rather  aback  by  the  infor 
mation  that  the  barber  had  been  set  at  liberty  last  evening,  and  there  was  not 
a  man  left  in  this  whole  concourse  of  practical  ability  to  take  his  place.  So 
there  are  imperfections  in  the  social  machinery  even  in  Clichy.  Fourier  was 
right;  it  will  take  1,728  persons  (the  cube  of  12)  to  form  a  perfect  Social 
Phalanx;  hence  all  attempts  to  do  it  with  two  hundred  or  less  fail  and  must 
fail.  We  had  about  144  in  Clichy  this  morning,  —  men  of  more  than  average 
capacity;  still  there  are  hitches,  as  we  have  seen.  I  think  I  have  learned 
more  there  than  in  any  two  previous  days  of  my  life;  I  never  was  busier;  and 
yet  I  should  feel  that  all  over  a  week  spent  there  would  be  a  waste  of  time. 

'*  Let  me  close  by  stating  that  arrangements  were  made  at  once  for  the 
liberation  of  the  only  American  I  found  or  left  there ;  the  first,  I  believe,  who 
had  been  seen  inside  of  the  middle  grating  for  months.  For  this  he  will  be 
mainly  indebted  to  the  generosity  of  Messrs.  Greene  &  Co.,  bankers,  but 
others  are  willing  to  co-operate.  I  fear  he  might  have  stayed  some  time,  had 
not  my  position  brought  him  into  contact  with  men  whom  his  pride  would 
not  permit  him  to  apply  to,  yet  who  will  not  let  him  stay  there,  I  am  well 
assured  that  he  comes  out  to-night." 

This  event,  as  the  reader  may  infer  from  Mr.  Greeley's  narrative, 
threw  the  Americans  in  Paris  into  a  high  degree  of  excitement,  and 
there  was  manifested  by  all  of  them  the  utmost  willingness  to  con 
tribute  both  money  and  service  for  his  liberation.  It  was  at  first 
supposed  that  the  debt  was  only  a  pretext,  and  that  the  real  mo 
tive  was  political.  This,  however,  was  not  the  case.  Mr.  G-reeley 
received  particular  attention  from  persons  connected  with  the  gov 
ernment  with  whom  he  came  in  contact. 

"  I  left  Paris,"  he  says,  "with  a  feeling  that  I  had  had  quite  enough 
of  it.  Paris  is  a  pleasant  city  for  those  to  whom  pleasure  is  the 


432  HORACE    GREELEY   IN   A    FRENCH   PRISON. 

end  of  life ;  but  I,  if  exiled  for  five  years  to  Europe,  should  be  apt 
to  give  two  of  them  to  the  British  Isles,  one  each  to  Germany, 
Switzerland,  and  Italy,  and  hardly  a  month  to  France,  her  capital 
included.  Life  is  here  too  superficial,  too  material,  too  egotistic. 
I  could  not  be  content  in  a  great  city  which  neither  has  nor  feels 
the  need  of  a  Tabernacle  or  Exeter  Hall.  Vevay's  and  the  Trois 
Freres  are  well  in  their  way,  but  no  substitute  for  those.  Paris  is 
the  Paradise  of  Frenchmen,  but  my  nature  is  not  French,  and 
never  can  be.  I  found  friends  in  the  gay  metropolis,  and  trust  I 
did  not  alienate  any ;  but  I  could  make  or  strengthen  attachments 
faster  almost  anywhere  else.  And  so,  with  some  pleasant  and 
other  less  agreeable  remembrances  of  the  two  months  I  had  spent 
there,  and  with  grateful  regard  to  those  who  had  there  proved 
themselves  friends  indeed,  it  was  with  a  real  sense  of  relief  that  I 
saw  Paris  fade  behind  and  the  broad,  green  country  open  before 
me,  in  the  direction  of  Rouen,  Dieppe,  and  the  English  Channel." 

He  felt  far  more  at  home  in  London.  "  London,"  he  remarked, 
"deepens  its  impression  upon  me  with  each  visit;  nay,  I  rarely 
spend  a  day  within  its  vast  circumference  without  increasing  won 
der  and  admiration.  It  is  the  capital,  if  not  of  the  civilized,  cer 
tainly  of  the  commercial  world,  civilized  and  otherwise.  To  her 
wharves  the  raw  produce  of  all  climes  and  countries,  to  her  vaults 
the  gold  of  California  and  Australia,  to  her  cabinets  the  gems  of 
Golconda  and  Brazil,  insensibly  gravitate.  From  this  mighty  heart 
radiate  the  main  arteries  of  the  world's  trade ;  a  great  crash  here 
brings  down  leading  and  long-established  houses  in  the  South  Pa 
cific  or  the  Yellow  Sea.  I  dropped  in  to-day  on  an  old  friend  whom 
I  had  known  ten  or  fifteen  years  ago  as  a  philosophic  radical  and 
social  reformer  in  America.  I  found  him  in  a  great  sugar-house 
under  the  shadow  of  the  Bank,  correcting  a  Price  Current  which  he 
edits,  having  just  made  up  a  telegraphic  despatch  for  his  house's 
correspondents  in  Bombay.  I  found  him  calm  and  wise  as  ever ; 
more  practical,  some  would  say,  but  still  hopeful  of  the  good  time 
coming ;  he  had  been  several  years  with  that  house,  and  he  told 
me  his  income  was  quite  satisfactory,  and  that  his  eldest  son  was 
doing  very  well  in  Australia.  I  came  over  from  America  with  an 
intelligent  and  excellent  English  family  that  had  been  several  years 
in  Mexico,  the  husband  and  father  managing  a  mine.  They  were 
on  a  visit  to  their  native  land  to  say  good  by  to  a  son  and  brother 


THE   INCARCERATION.  433 

in  the  army,  who  was  ordered  to  the  Crimea.  By  this  time  they 
are  probably  on  their  return  to  Mexico  for  another  four  years'  so 
journ.  Their  many  heavy  trunks  were  inscribed  '  Maj.  F ,  Lon 
don.'  And  so  the  great  city  is  constantly  sending  forth  her  thou 
sands  to  every  corner  of  the  globe  where  goods  may  be  sold,  mines 
profitably  worked,  products  gathered  up,  settlements  planted  or 
railroads  constructed, — some  of  them  to  return  after  a  season  with 
riches,  or  distinction,  or  competence,  —  others  to  fill  unmarked 
graves  on  far-off,  lonely  shores,  —  but  all  to  contribute  to  the 
wealth  and  power  of  the  world's  commercial  emporium.  Among 

our  passengers  out  was  Capt.  B ,  a  civil  engineer,  who  had 

been  surveying  for  a  railroad,  somewhere  down  in  Spanish  Amer 
ica,  and  was  returning  with  the  result  to  his  London  employers. 

*  Capt  B ,'  asked  a  friend,  casually,  l  do  you  remain  in  England 

some  time  ?  or  are  you  going  off  again ? '  'I  am  going  again,' 
was  his  quiet  reply;  'but  I  don't  know  till  I  reach  London 
whether  I  shall  be  employed  in  Brazil  or  in  Asia  Minor.'  There 
is  much  mistaken  pride  and  false  dignity  in  England;  but  if  a 
Briton  insists  on  being  proud  of  London,  I  shall  not  quarrel  with 
him  on  that  head." 

Of  the  House  of  Commons  he  said :  "  On  the  whole,  I  judged 
that  the  better  order  of  speaking  in  the  House  of  Commons  sur 
passes  that  which  may  be  heard  in  our  House  of  Representatives,  — 
is  more  direct,  substantial,  and  to  the  point,  while  the  average  abil 
ity  evinced  in  the  speaking  here  is  quite  below  that  manifested  in 
Congress.  I  had  been  misled  into  the  notion  that  decided  bores 
are  regularly  coughed  down  when  they  undertake  to  enlighten  the 
House ;  but  I  saw  and  heard  half  a  dozen  of  them  try  it,  and  the 
remedy  was  never  once  applied.  Yet  I  cannot  realize  that  the 
provocation  could  well  be  greater." 

The  celebrated  Cremorne  Grardens  appear  to  have  rather  puzzled 
the  American  editor,  as  well  they  might.  "I  looked  in,"  he  says, 
u  with  a  friend  one  evening,  and  found  some  three  thousand  people 
there,  as  many  as  six  or  eight  hundred  of  them  dancing  at  once 
under  the  open  sky,  on  a  slightly  raised  floor  surrounding  the  tall 
stand  or  tower  in  which  the  musicians  were  seated.  There  were 
not  far  from  a  thousand  women  present,  most  of  them  quite  young, 
and  the  majority  manifestly  already  lost  to  virtue  if  not  quite  dead 
to  shame.  What  struck  me  with  surprise  was  the  fact  that  many 

19  BB 


434  HORACE   GREELEY  IN  A  FRENCH   PRISON. 

obviously  respectable  and  undepraved  girls  mingled  and  danced 
in  the  throng,  including  mere  children  of  ten  or  twelve  years, 
who  could  not  fail  speedily  to  comprehend  the  errand  on  which 
the  lost  ones  come  hither.  I  had  heard  much  of  the  decorous  de 
pravity  of  the  Parisian  dancing-gardens,  though  I  never  visited 
them ;  here  the  decorum  was  dubious  and  the  depravity  unmistak 
able.  The  English  are  not  skilful  in  varnishing  vice,  —  at  least,  I 
have  seen  no  evidence  of  their  tact  in  that  line.  I  endured  the 
spectacle  of  men  dancing  with  women  when  rather  beery,  and 
smoking ;  but  at  last  the  sight  of  a  dark  and  by  no  means  elegant 
mulatto  waltzing  with  a  decent-looking  white  girl,  while  puffing 
away  at  a  rather  bad  cigar,  proved  too  much  for  my  Yankee  prej 
udice  and  I  started.  In  fact,  it  was  about  time,  since  it  wanted  but 
a  quarter  to  eleven,  and. my  lodgings,  though  this  side  of  the  middle 
of  London,  were  some  six  miles  distant.  (The  cabman  charged  for 
seven.)  Cremorne,  however,  appeared  to  be  just  warming  up  to 
its  evening's  delectation." 

Two  days  after  this  adventure  he  was  at  Liverpool,  preparing  to 
embark  for  his  native  land,  which  he  reached  in  safety  after  an 
absence  of  about  three  months. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

ASSAULTED  IN  WASHINGTON  BY  A  MEMBER  OF 
CONGRESS. 

The  provocation— The  assault— Why  Mr.  Greeley  did  not  prosecute— The  Tribune  in 
dicted  in  Virginia— Correspondence  on  slavery— Slavery,  ex  labor. 

DURING  the  administrations  of  Franklin  Pierce  and  James  Bu 
chanan,  when  the  controversy  respecting  slavery  was  approaching 
a  crisis,  Mr.  Greeley  spent  much  of  his  time  in  Washington,  com 
menting  for  the  Tribune  upon  the  proceedings  of  Congress.  While 
performing  this  duty  in  January,  1856,  lie  incurred  the  resentment 
of  Albert  Rust,  a  member  of  Congress  from  Arkansas,  by  the  fol 
lowing  remarks  upon  the  course  of  that  member  during  the  con 
test  for  the  Speakership  which  resulted  in  the  election  of  Mr.  N. 
P.  Banks.  The  following  were  the  offensive  words :  — 

"  I  have  had  some  acquaintance  with  human  degradation;  yet  it  did  seem  to 
me  to-day  that  Rust's  resolution  in  the  House  was  a  more  discreditable  propo 
sition  than  I  had  ever  known  gravely  submitted  to  a  legislative  body.  Just 
consider  the  facts:  Mr.  Banks  has  for  more  than  six  weeks  received  the  votes 
of  a  very  large  plurality  of  the  House,  —  never  polling  more  than  ten  short  of 
a  majority,  usually  only  six  or  seven,  and  sometimes  coming  within  two  or 
three.  He  has  repeatedly  tendered  his  declination  to  his  friends,  and  they  have 
uniformly  refused  it,  and  placed  him  again  in  nomination.  Last  evening  they 
held  another  caucus,  resolved  to  support  him  to  the  end,  and  resolved  to  hold 
no  more  caucuses,  lest  their  adversaries  might  be  encouraged  to  hope  that 
they  would  change  their  candidate.  Yet,  in  the  face  of  this  demonstration, 
the  two  hostile  minorities  come  into  the  house  this  morning  and  seriously  at 
tempt  to  invite  Mr.  Banks  to  decline !  for  that  is  just  what  Rust's  resolution 
amounts  to.  It  could  not  affect  Mr.  Banks's  rights  nor  those  of  his  support 
ers;  but  it  would  seem  to  be  an  indignity  >  and  might  be  expected  to  wound 
his  sensibilities.  But  Mr.  Banks  will  never  take  counsel  with  his  bitter 
enemies  as  to  the  propriety  of  his  withdrawal  from  the  canvass." 

This  appeared  in  the  Tribune  of  January  26,  1856.  A  few- 
hours  after  the  arrival  of  the  paper  in  Washington  Mr.  Rust  mani 
fested  his  indignation  in  the  manner  related  by  Mr.  Greeley  in  the 
following  letter:  — 


436  ASSAULTED   BY   A   MEMBER   OF   CONGRESS. 

"I  have  heard  since  I  came  here  a  good  deal  of  the  personal  vio 
lence  to  which  I  was  exposed,  but  only  one  man  has  offered  to 
attack  me  until  to-day,  and  he  was  so  drunk  that  he  made  a  poor 
fist  of  it.  In  fact,  I  do  not  remember  that  any  man  ever  seriously 
attacked  me  till  now. 

"  I  was  conversing  with  two  gentlemen  on  my  way  down  from 
the  Capitol,  after  the  adjournment  of  the  House  this  afternoon, 
when  a  stranger  requested  a  word  with  me.  I  stopped,  and  my 
friends  went  on.  The  stranger,  who  appeared  in  the  prime  of 
life,  six  feet  high,  and  who  must  weigh  over  two  hundred,  thus 
began :  — 

"  '  Is  your  name  Greeley  ? ' 

"  <  Yes.' 

"  '  Are  you  a  non-combatant  ? ' 

"  '  That  is  according  to  circumstances.' 

"  The  words  were  hardly  out  of  my  mouth  when  he  struck  me 
a  stunning  blow  on  the  right  side  of  my  head,  and  followed  it  by 
two  or  three  more,  as  rapidly  as  possible.  My  hands  were  still  in 
my  great-coat  pockets,  for  I  had  no  idea  that  he  was  about  to 
strike.  He  staggered  me  against  the  fence  of  the  walk  from  the 
Capitol  to  the  Avenue,  but  did  not  get  me  down.  I  rallied  as  soon 
as  possible,  and  saw  him  standing  several  feet  from  me,  with  several 
persons  standing  or  rushing  in  between  us.  I  asked,  '  Who  is  this 
man?  I  don't  know  him,'  and  understood  him  to  answer,  with 
an  imprecation,  'You  '11  know  me  soon  enough,'  or  'You  '11 
know  me  hereafter,'  when  he  turned  and  went  down  toward  the 
street.  No  one  answered  my  inquiry  directly,  but  some  friends 
soon  came  up,  who  told  me  that  my  assailant  was  Albert  Rust,  M. 
C.  from  Arkansas.  He  gave  no  hint  of  any  cause  or  pretext  he 
may  have  had  for  this  assault,  but  I  must  infer  that  it  is  to  be  found 
in  my  strictures  in  Monday's  Tribune  (letter  of  Thursday  evening 
last)  on  his  attempt  to  drive  Mr.  Banks  out  of  the  field  as  a  candi 
date  for  Speaker,  by  passing  a  resolution  inviting  all  the  present 
candidates  to  withdraw.  I  thought  that  a  mean  trick,  and  said  so 
most  decidedly ;  I  certainly  think  no  better  of  it,  now  that  I  have 
made  the  acquaintance  of  its  author. 

"The  bully  turned  and  walked  down  along;  I  followed,  conversing 
with  two  friends.  Crossing  Four-and-a-half  Street,  they  dropped 
behind  to  speak  to  acquaintances,  and  I,  walking  along  toward  the 


ASSAULTED  BY  A  MEMBER  OF  CONGRESS.        437 

National  Hotel,  soon  found  myself  in  the  midst  of  a  huddle  of 
strangers.  One  of  these  turned  short  upon  me  —  I  saw  it  was  my 
former  assailant  —  and  said,  'Do  you  know  me  now?'  I  answered, 
'Yes;  you  are  Rust  of  Arkansas.'  He  said  something  of  what 
he  would  do  if  I  were  a  combatant,  and  I  replied  that  I  claimed  no 
exemption  on  that  account.  He  now  drew  a  heavy  cane,  which  I 
had  not  seen  before,  and  struck  a  pretty  heavy  blow  at  my  head, 
which  I  caught  on  my  left  arm,  with  no  other  damage  than  a 
rather  severe  bruise.  He  was  trying  to  strike  again,  and  I  was 
endeavoring  to  close  with  him,  when  several  persons  rushed  be 
tween  and  separated  us.  I  did  not  strike  him  at  all,  nor  lay  a  fin 
ger  on  him;  but  it  certainly  would  have  been  a  pleasure  to  me, 
had  I  been  able  to  perform  the  public  duty  of  knocking  him  down. 
I  cannot  mistake  the  movement  of  his  hand  on  the  Avenue,  and 
am  sure  it  must  have  been  toward  a  pistol  in  his  belt.  And  the 
crowd  which  surrounded  us  was  nearly  all  Southern,  as  he  doubt 
less  knew  before  he  renewed  his  attack  on  me 

"  I  presume  this  is  not  the  last  outrage  to  which  I  am  to  be  sub 
jected.  I  came  here  with  a  clear  understanding  that  it  was  about 
an  even  chance  whether  I  should  or  should  not  be  allowed  to  go 
home  alive;  for  my  business  here  is  to  unmask  hypocrisy,  defeat 
treachery,  and  rebuke  meanness,  and  these  are  not  dainty  employ 
ments  even  in  smoother  times  than  ours.  But  I  shall  stay  here 
just  so  long  as  I  think  proper,  using  great  plainness  of  speech,  but 
endeavoring  to  treat  all  men  justly  and  faithfully.  I  may  often 
judge  harshly,  and  even  be  mistaken  as  to  facts,  but  I  shall  always 
be  ready  to  correct  my  mistakes  and  to  amend  my  judgments.  I 
shall  carry  no  weapons  and  engage  in  no  brawls ;  but  if  ruffians 
waylay  and  assail  me,  I  shall  certainly  not  run,  and,  so  far  as  able, 
I  shall  defend  myself." 

The  editor  of  the  Tribune,  though  severely  bruised,  was  not  in 
capacitated  from  continuing  his  editorial  labors.  Gentlemen  who 
called  upon  him  that  evening  found  him  writing  at  his  table  as 
usual,  though  with  wet  cloths  bound  round  his  head  and  arm.  The 
assault  called  forth  indignant  comments  from  the  press ;  but  no  one 
so  well  expressed  the  sense  of  the  country  with  regard  to  it  as  the 
editor  of  the  Albany  Knickerbocker,  who  said :  "  The  fellow  who 
would  strike  Horace  Greeley  would  strike  his  mother." 


438  ASSAULTED   BY   A    MEMBER    OF    CONGRESS. 

Mr.  Greeley  was  censured  by  a  portion  of  the  public  for  not 
prosecuting  the  drunken  ruffian  who  committed  this  atrocity.  He 
gave  his  reasons  for  not  seeking  redress  from  the  law. 

"  1.  I  do  not  know  this  Mr.  Rust.  I  had  not  the  remotest  idea 
of  his  personal  appearance  up  to  the  moment  of  his  assault  on  me. 
If  he  were  in  court,  I  think  I  could  identify  the  man  who  assaulted 
me  beyond  doubt;  but  if  I  were  asked  before  a  grand  jury,  'How 
do  you  know  that  the  man  who  struck  you  was  Albert  Rust,  M.  C. 
from  Arkansas  ? '  I  could  only  answer,  '  I  was  so  informed  by 
those  who  witnessed  the  assault,'  —  and  this  of  itself  would  not 
be  conclusive.  I  never  saw  my  assailant  in  the  House  so  as  to 
identify  him,  and  he  was  never  but  once  pointed  out  to  me  else 
where,  and  then  he  was  walking  from  me. 

"  2.  The  complaint  against  Mr.  Rust  did  not  originate  with  the 
citizens  or  authorities  of  Washington.  No  witness  of  the  assault 
saw  fit  to  make  any.  Nothing  was  done  until,  some  two  or  three 
weeks  after  the  occurrence,  a  lawyer  of  this  State  went  to  Wash 
ington  and  made  it.  Had  I  appeared  on  this  complaint  as  the  prin 
cipal,  if  not  sole  witness  in  its  support,  I  should  have  been  sus 
pected  of  having  instigated  it.  I  did  not  choose  to  rest  under  that 
imputation.  When  I  see  fit  to  complain  of  an  attack  upon  me,  I 
shall  seek  no  screen. 

"  3.  I  do  not  choose  to  be  beaten  for  money,  even  though  the 
public  is  to  pocket  it ;  and  I  know  the  sentiment  of  our  Federal 
metropolis  too  well  to  believe  that  an  anti-slavery  editor  has  any 
chance  of  substantial  justice  there,  in  a  prosecution  against  a 
Southern  member  of  Congress.  If  the  price  to  be  paid  for  beat 
ing  me  is  ever  to  be  legally  fixed,  I  choose  to  have  it  assessed  by 
a  Northern  jury. 

"  4.  I  have  chosen  to  treat  my  assailant  throughout  in  such  man 
ner  as  to  make  him  ashamed  of  his  assault  on  me.  In  this  I  think 
I  have  succeeded.  For  the  credit  of  human  nature,  I  will  so  be 
lieve." 

In  the  same  year,  1856,  the  Tribune  had  the  honor  to  be  indicted 
in  the  State  of  Virginia,  for  advising  negroes,  as  it  was  alleged,  to 
rise  in  rebellion  against  their  masters.  As  a  curious  relic  of  that 
bad  time,  I  place  this  affair  on  record.  In  September,  1856,  the 
following  letters  were  received  at  the  Tribune  office :  — 


THE    TRIBUNE    INDICTED    IN    VIRGINIA.  439 

"  SHINNSTOX,  VA.,  Sept.  26,  1856. 

"MESSRS.  GREELEY  &  MC£LRATH:  — 

"I  regret  to  inform  you  that  I  am  indicted  for  getting  up  a  club  for  the 
Tribune.  Great  God!  has  it  come  to  this,  that  a  man  must  be  sent  to  the 
penitentiary  for  reading  a  newspaper?  The  grand  jury  had  one  of  the  sub 
scribers  brought  before  them  with  an  armful  of  copies  of  the  Tribune,  and 
they  were  distributed  among  them.  They  examined  them  a  long  time,  and 
were  about  giving  it  up  that  it  would  have  to  pass,  when,  lo  and  behold !  one 
of  them  discovered  an  extract  from  the  Pittsburg  Dispatch,  which  gave  an 
account  of  the  great  negro  hunt  of  Ross  &  Co.,  and  on  that  they  pronounced 
it  an  Abolition  document.  The  court  ordered  the  jury  to  meet  on  Monday 
next,  to  indict  the  postmaster  at  Shinnston. 

"  I  discover  that  the  law  of  Virginia  makes  my  case  felony.  I  may  have  to 
flee,  or  serve  a  time  in  the  Richmond  Penitentiary.  I  would  like  to  hear  from 
you,  whether  it  is  not  legal  for  your  paper  to  circulate  in  this  State.  I  have 
notified  the  court  that,  if  they  would  show  some  lenity  in  my  case  if  they 
should  decide  the  said  paper  to  be  illegal,  I  would  discontinue  my  club. 

"  W.  P.  HALL." 

«  To  the  Editor  of  the  N.  Y.  Tribune. 

"  SIR:  —  The  grand  jury  for  this  county  this  week  presented  Horace  Greeley 
of  New  York,  Mr.  Hall  of  Shinnston,  and  myself  of  this  place,  for  circulating 
the  Tribune.    You  may  make  any  use  of  this  information  you  may  desire. 
"  Yours  very  truly. 

«!EA  HART. 

"  Clarksburg,  Harrison  County,  Va.,  Oct.  2, 1856." 


The  subsequent  proceedings  were  thus  related  in  the  Tribune:  — 

"  Immediately  upon  the  receipt  of  these  letters  answers  were 
addressed  to  the  writers,  expressing  the  readiness  of  the  con 
ductors  of  the  Tribune  to  do  their  part  toward  testing  the  law  of 
the  case,  and  desiring  copies  of  the  indictments.  To  the  letter 
addressed  to  Mr.  Hall  no  answer  has  arrived,  and  perhaps  he  never 
received  it.  We  are  informed  from  another  quarter  that,  shortly 
after  the  finding  of  the  indictment,  being  greatly  alarmed  at  it,  he 
left  home.  In  the  mean  while,  however,  it  was  discovered  that  the 
grand  jury  by  which  the  bills  were  found  was  illegal,  one  of  its 
members  being  disqualified  to  sit  as  a  grand  juror.  As  soon  as  this 
discovery  was  made  another  jury  was  impanelled,  which  returned 
the  indictment,  which  we  shall  presently  give,  against  Horace 
G-reeley,  but  omitted  to  find  any  against  the  two  citizens  of  the 
county  who  had  been  previously  indicted.  This,  however,  does 


440  THE   TRIBUNE   INDICTED   IN   VIRGINIA. 

not  appear  to  have  been  through  any  disposition  to  give  over  the 
persecution  of  the  readers  of  the  Tribune,  as  will  appear  from  the 
following  letter  of  Mr.  Hall,  addressed  to  us  after  his  return 

home :  — 

"SHINNSTON,  VA.,  20th  Oct.,  1856. 
" '  MESSRS.  GREELEY  &  MCELRATH  :  — 

"'Since  I  returned  home,  I  find  the  storm  raging  as  bad  as  ever  against  me. 
They  say  I  shall  stop  the  Tribune  club,  or  they  will  bring  my  case  up  at 
the  next  Grand  Jury  Court,  and  put  me  clear  through. 
"  •  I  therefore  request  you  to  stop  the  club. 

" '  WM.  P.  HALU 
" '  This  from  a  friend.' 

"  So  much  for  Shinnston.  Mr.  Hart,  the  other  person  indicted,  a 
resident  in  Clarksburg,  in  the  same  county,  appears  to  be  made  of 
somewhat  sterner  stuff.  Some  time  since  the  postmaster  at  Clarks 
burg  refused  to  deliver  his  paper,  under  pretence  of  a  law  of  Vir 
ginia  imposing  a  fine  of  $  200  on  any  postmaster  for  delivering  in 
cendiary  mail  matter.  Mr.  Hart  thereupon  applied  to  the  Post 
master-General,  who,  in  performance  of  his  duty,  wrote  to  the 
Clarksburg  deputy  that  he  must  deliver.  This  caused  a  tremen 
dous  stir  among  the  magnates  of  Clarksburg,  but  the  paper  has 
since  been  regularly  delivered.  The  next  move  was  to  indict  Mr. 
Hart,  as  already  mentioned;  but  here  too  was  a  legal  difficulty, 
which  probably  prevented  the  refinding  of  the  indictment.  The 
offence,  it  seems,  made  felony  by  the  statutes  of  Virginia,  is  not 
having  in  possession  or  reading  incendiary  documents,  but  circulat 
ing  or  carrying  or  procuring  them  to  be  circulated;  and  as  Mr. 
Hart  merely  took  his  paper  from  the  post-office  and  read  it  at 
home,  his  case  did  not  seem  to  come  under  that  provision.  The 
evidence  upon  which  the  first  indictment  was  found  was,  that  he 
had  asked  some  of  his  neighbors  to  form  a  club  with  him  for  tak 
ing  the  Tribune ;  but  as  no  such  club  was  actually  formed,  it  was 
plain  that  this  evidence  was  not  sufficient. 

"We  come  now  to  the  indictment  actually  found  and  now  pend 
ing,  which  is  in  the  words  and  figures  following :  — 

"'VIRGINIA,  ss. 

"'In  the  Circuit  Court  of  Harrison  County. 

" '  The  grand  jurors  for  said  county,  on  their  oaths,  present  that  heretofore, 
to  wit,  on  the  5th  day  of  July,  in  the  year  1856,  and  from  that  day  to  the  find 
ing  of  this  presentment,  Horace  Greeley  did  write,  print,  and  publish,  and 
cause  to  be  written,  printed,  and  published  weekly,  in  the  city  of  New  York 


THE    TRIBUNE    INDICTED    IN    VIRGINIA.  441 

and  State  of  New  York,  a  book  and  writing,  to  wit,  a  newspaper  and  public 
journal,  styled  and  entitled  New  York  Tribune,  the  object  and  purpose  of 
which  said  New  York  Tribune  was  to  advise  and  incite  negroes  in  this  State 
to  rebel  and  make  insurrection,  and  to  inculcate  resistance  to  the  rights  of 
property  of  masters  in  their  slaves  in  the  State  of  Virginia. 

"'And  the  jurors  do  further  present  that  the  said  Horace  Greeley  afterward, 
to  wit,  on  the  5th  day  of  July,  in  the  year  1856,  did  knowingly,  wilfully,  and 
feloniously  transmit  to,  and  circulate  in,  and  cause  and  procure  to  be  trans 
mitted  to  and  circulated  in  the  said  county  of  Harrison,  the  said  book  and 
writing,  to  wit,  the  said  New  York  Tribune,  with  the  intent  to  aid  purposes 
thereof  against  the  peace  and  dignity  of  the  Commonwealth. 

'"And  the  jurors  aforesaid,  upon  the  oaths  aforesaid,  do  further  present  that 
said  Horace  Greeley,  on  the  day  of  July,  in  the  year  1856,  did  knowingly, 
unlawfully,  and  feloniously  circulate  and  cause  to  be  circulated  in  said  county 
of  Harrison,  a  writing,  to  wit,  a  newspaper  and  public  journal,  which  said 
writing,  newspaper,  and  public  journal,  was  on  the  5th  day  of  July,  in  the 
year  1856,  published,  written,  and  printed  in  the  city  of  New  York,  and  State 
of  New  York,  and  was  styled  and  entitled  New  York  Tribune,  with  intent 
in  him,  the  said  Greeley,  then  and  there  to  advise  and  incite  negroes  in  the 
State  of  Virginia  aforesaid  to  rebel  and  make  insurrection,  and  to  inculcate 
resistance  to  the  rights  of  property  of  masters  in  their  slaves,  against  the  peace 
and  dignity  of  the  Commonwealth. 

" '  Upon  the  information  of  Amaziah  Hill  and  Seymour  Johnson,  witnesses 
sworn  in  open  court,  and  sent  to  the  grand  jury  to  testify  at  the  request  of 
the  grand  jury,  who  had  the  New  York  Tribune  in  the  above  presentment 
referred  to  before  them,  and  examined  the  same. 

"'B.  WILSON, 
Attorney  for  the  Commonwealth. 

"  Indorsed, '  State  v.  Horace  Greeley.    Presentment  for  felony.    A  true  bill. 

"  'A.  J.  GARRETT,  Foreman.1 " 

The  Tribune  favored  its  readers  with  a  brief  description  of  the 
persons  supposed  to  be  chiefly  instrumental  in  procuring  this  in 
dictment  :  — 

"  This  Grarrett,  we  understand,  who  indorses  the  indictment  as 
foreman,  is  a  Baptist  minister  —  we  imagine  of  the  hard-shell  or 
der  —  who,  having  got  some  *  chattels '  with  his  wife,  feels  him 
self  quite  an  aristocrat,  and  by  his  insolent  and  overbearing  de 
meanor  has  secured  the  hatred  of  all  his  neighbors,  over  whom  in 
his  character  of  slaveholder  he  enjoys,  however,  the  privilege  of 
domineering.  Johnson,  one  of  the  witnesses,  we  understand  to  be 
a  vagabond  relation  of  the  late  Governor  of  Virginia  of  that  name, 
—  one  of  those  offshoots  of  the  first  families,  too  lazy  and  too 
19* 


442  A  CORRESPONDENCE  ON  SLAVERY. 

prou'd  to  work,  but  not  too  proud  to  sneak  behind  the  waiter  into 
complimentary  dinners  to  his  relative  the  Governor,  into  which  he 
could  get  admission  in  no  other  way." 

The  provocation  to  such  assaults  as  these  upon  the  Tribune  and 
its  editor  was  simply  the  opposition  of  that  newspaper  to  every 
scheme  devised  by  the  Southern  oligarchy  to  extend  the  area  of 
slavery.  Upon  looking  over  the  Tribune  of  those  days,  the  reader 
will  find  that  the  tone  in  which  slavery  was  discussed  was  emi 
nently  moderate.  Nevertheless,  it  published  hundreds  of  articles 
most  damaging  to  slavery,  and  did  more  than  all  other  things  to 
gether  to  create  a  party  powerful  enough  to  enter  the  Presidential 
campaign  with  rational  hopes  of  success. 

From  the  mass  of  Mr.  Greeley's  more  personal  writings  of  that 
period  room  can  be  found  here  for  one  or  two  specimens :  — 


"A  CORRESPONDENCE   ON   SLAVERY. 

"  HORACE  GREELEY,  ESQ.  :  — 

"DEAR  SIR:  —  I  live  in  a  warm  place  for  an  Abolitionist, — for  that  is  the 
title  you  are  known  by  here,  —  and  we  who  take  your  paper  have  the  same 
application. 

"  Give  us  a  short  sketch  —  very  plain  —  in  regard  to  the  abolition  of  slavery, 
so  that  I  may  show  my  pro-slavery  brethren  your  platform. 

"  Success  to  your  paper ! 

"  Albany,  Mo.,  January  18, 1859." 

"REPLY. 

"NEW  YORK,  Jan.  29, 1859. 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR  :  —  I  have  yours  of  the  17th.  You  ask  me  why 
the  abolition  of  slavery  is  deemed  desirable.  I  answer,  very 
briefly :  — 

"  I.  Because,  in  the  order  of  nature,  every  adult  human  being  has 
a  right  to  use  his  own  God-given  faculties — muscles,  sinews,  organs 
—  for  the  sustenance  and  comfort  of  himself  and  his  family.  Conse 
quently,  it  is  wrong  to  divest  him  of  the  control  of  those  capacities, 
and  render  him  helplessly  subservient  to  the  pleasure  and  aggran 
dizement  of  another. 

"  II.  Because  the  mixture  of  whites  and  blacks  in  the  same  com- 


A  CORRESPONDENCE  ON  SLAVERY.  443 

munity,  society,  household,  —  an  inevitable  result  of  African  slavery, 
—  is  not  favorable  to  the  moral  purity  or  social  advancement  of 
either  caste.  Better  let  the  two  races  form  separate  communities. 

"  III.  Because  the  earth  should  be  so  cultivated,  and  the  various 
departments  of  industry  so  mixed  and  blended,  that  every  year's 
cultivation  should  increase,  rather  than  diminish,  the  productive  ca 
pacities  of  the  soil.  Slavery,  by  placing  long  distances  between 
those  who  pursue  agriculture  and  manufactures  respectively,  for 
bids  this. 

"  IV.  Because  the  fullest  cultivation  of  his  intellect,  through  edu 
cation,  reading,  study,  &c.,  is  the  right  of  every  rational  being. 
In  the  Divine  economy,  this  would  seem  one  of  the  main  rea 
sons  for  placing  men  on  earth.  Slavery  is  incompatible  with  such 
cultivation,  forbidding  itg  subjects  even  to  read  or  write. 

"  V.  Slavery  is  palpably  at  war  with  the  fundamental  basis  of  our 
government,  —  the  inalienable  rights  of  man.  It  is  a  chief  obsta 
cle  to  the  progress  of  republican  institutions  throughout  the  world. 
It  is  a  standing  reproach  to  our  country  abroad.  It  is  the  cause 
of  exultation  and  joy  on  the  side  of  the  armed  despots.  It  is  worth 
more  to  the  Austrian  and  French  tyrantg  than  an  additional  army 
of  100,000  men. 

"VI.  Slavery  is  the  chief  cause  of  dissension  and  hatred  among 
ourselves.  It  keeps  us  perpetually  divided,  jealous,  hostile.  If  it 
were  abolished,  we  should  never  dream  of  fighting  each  other,  nor 
dissolving  the  Union, 

"  VII.  Slavery  powerfully  aids  to  keep  in  power  the  most  thor 
oughly  unprincipled  party,  the  most  corrupt  demagogues,  that  our 
country  has  ever  known. 

"  VIII.  Slavery  makes  a  few  rich,  but  sinks  the  great  mass,  even 
of  the  free,  into  indolence,  depravity,  and  misery.  It  prevents  the 
accumulation  of  wealth.  It  renders  land  a  drug,  and  keeps  popu 
lation  so  sparse  and  scattered  that  common  schools  are  for  the 
most  part  impossible. 

"  For  these  and  other  reasons,  I  am  among  those  who  labor  and 
hope  for  the  early  and  complete  abolition  of  human,  but  especially 
of  American  slavery,  ('  Yours, 

"HORACE  Q-REELEIT, 

"W.  C.  COWAN,  ESQ.,  Albany,  Gentry  County,  Ho." 


444  CORRESPONDENCE   WITH   A   SLAVEHOLDER. 


CORRESPONDENCE  WITH  A   SLAVEHOLDER. 

"INVITATION  TO  BUY  A  SLAVE. 

" ,  VA.,  March  7, 1857. 

"MR.  HORACE  GREKLET:  — 

"  I  offer  no  apology  for  this  communication.  You  claim  to  be  a  philan 
thropist,  and  you  are,  notoriously,  a  champion  of  African  slaves.  I  propose, 
simply  and  in  good  faith,  to  afford  you  au  opportunity  of  giving  (to  the  world, 
if  you  please)  a  practical  illustration  of  the  philanthropy  you  preach. 

"I  know  a  slave  who  is  fit  to  be  free.  He  is  intelligent,  —  able  to  read  and 
write  and  make  up  accounts  in  a  small  way,  —  is  a  good  carpenter  and 
cabinet-maker,  —  an  honest  man  and  a  consistent  member  of  a  Christian 
church.  For  some  years  this  slave  hired  himself,  paid  his  owner  a  full 
price  for  his  time,  laid  up  money,  and  bought  his  slave-wife  and  their 
younger  children.  Two  of  their  older  children  are  still  slaves. 

"  The  owner  of  this  man  has  offered  to  sell  him  to  me,  at  the  slave's  request; 
but  I  am  not  able  to  buy  him,  nor  would  I  if  I  were  able. 

"  I  suppose  that  $  4,500  would  buy  the  man  and  his  two  slave  sons,  and  re 
move  the  family  to  a  Free  State.  It  has  occurred  to  me  that  you  may  be 
able,  or  may  know  somebody  who  is  able,  to  spare  this  sum  of  money  for  so 
good  a  purpose.  It  would  give  me  pleasure  to  aid  in  the  matter,  by  pur 
chasing  the  slaves,  emancipating  them,  and  attending  to  their  removal ;  and  I 
invite  you  to  a  correspondence  on  the  subject. 

"  If  you  want  any  knowledge  of  me  you  may  refer  to  [here  the  writer  inserts 
the  names  of  several  well-known  and  distinguished  persons,  which  we  omit], 
or  any  of  the  editors  at  Richmond. 

"  I  can  give  you  any  desirable  security  for  the  faithful  application  of  the 
funds. 

"  I  ought  to  have  stated  that  these  negroes  are  of  nearly  pure  white  blood, — 
the  wife  a  woman  of  excellent  character,  and  the  children  handsome  and 
sprightly. 

"  I  am,  perhaps,  as  far  from  any  sympathy  with  Abolitionists  as  you  are 
from  sympathy  with  slaveholders.  I  own  slaves,  and  expect  to  own  them 
during  my  life.  Knowing  something  of  the  matter  by  personal  experience,  I 
am  a  better  judge  of  it  than  you  can  be;  and  I  take  the  opportunity  of  saying 
to  you,  that  you  and  your  coadjutors  are  the  worst  enemies  of  the  slave. 
They  are,  by  great  odds,  in  a  happier  condition  than  your  white  slaves ;  but, 
like  all  other  human  beings,  may  be  made  discontented  with  their  lot.  You 
excite  them  to  discontent,  then  to  insubordination;  and  thus  you  make  it 
necessary  for  us  to  rule  them  more  rigidly.  Let  us  alone,  Mr.  Greeley. 

"  Why,  then,  you  may  ask,  do  I  care  about  emancipating  this  particular 
family?  I  say,  because  they  are  almost  white  people;  they  are  partly 
educated,  are  industrious,  moral,  and  Christian,  and  axe  fitted  for  freedom. 


CORRESPONDENCE   WITH   A   SLAVEHOLDER.  445 

"  I  know  hundreds  of  slaves;  I  do  not  know  one  dozen  who  are  fit  to  be  free. 
I  know  scores  of  free  negroes ;  but,  with  a  very  few  exceptions,  they  are  more 
ignorant,  immoral,  and  degraded  than  our  slaves. 

"  This  letter  is  not  for  publication. 

"  Your  obedient  servant, 


"REPLY. 

"  NEW  YORK,  March  11, 1857. 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR  :  —  I  have  yours  of  the  7th  inst.,  which  com 
mences  with  a  great  mistake  :  '  You  profess  to  be  a  philanthropist.' 
I  make  no  such  profession,  —  very  few  professions  of  any  kind. 
The  world  judges  me  as  it  sees  fit  from  my  acts ;  I  silently  abide 
its  verdict. 

"  If  I  can  only  deserve  the  reputation  of  a  philanthropist  by  buy 
ing  out  of  slavery  such  negroes,  '  almost  white,'  as  the  masters  be 
lieve  unfit  to  be  longer  slaves,  then  I  have  no  desire  to  earn  that 
title.  So  far  from  inclining  to  buy  them,  I  do  not  wish  this  par 
ticular  class  bought  or  otherwise  emancipated,  while  the  great  mass 
of  their  brethren  remain  in  bondage.  On  the  contrary,  I  wish  them 
to  remain  where  they  are,  looking  their  white  uncles  and  cousins 
in  the  face,  a  perpetual  reminder  of  the  infernal  system  of  which 
they  are  victims,  and  of  the  iniquities  which,  even  in  the  judg 
ment  of  slaveholders,  may  be  and  are  perpetrated  under  it.  No, 
sir,  I  hate  slavery  too  deeply  to  help  drug  the  consciences  of  your 
caste  by  buying  out  of  slavery  those  whom  even  you  say  are  fit  no 
longer  to  be  bondmen. 

"  Your  request  to  'let  you  alone '  in  the  Slave  States  I  shall  duly 
respect;  I  ask  your  members  of  Congress  and  Supreme  Court 
judges  to  do  likewise  by  us.  Your  Nebraska  bills  and  Dred  Scott 
decisions,  forcing  slavery  upon  the  Free  States  in  spite  of  them 
selves,  are  goading  us  beyond  the  point  of  peaceful  endurance. 
"  Yours, 

"HORACE  G-REELEY. 

"To ,  Ya. 

"  P.  S.  —  I  will  print  your  letter,  so  that  any  one  North  or  South, 
who  wishes  to  do  what  you  ask  of  me,  may  have  the  opportu 
nity." 


446  SLAVERY   AND    LABOR. 

SLAVERY  AND  LABOR. 

"  A  humble  farmer's  son,  upon  the  granite  hills  of  New  England, 
early  impelled  and  inured  to  rugged  and  persistent  toil,  I  learned 
not  merely  to  confront  labor,  but  to  respect  it,  and  to  recognize  in 
its  stern  exactions,  its  harsh  discipline,  one  of  the  most  precious 
and  vital  of  the  countless  blessings  which  Heaven  sends  us  dis 
guised  as  afflictions,  as  judgments,  or  at  least  as  trials.  I  learned 
to  realize  the  divine  benignity  underlying  and  animating  the  sen 
tence  passed  on  our  common  ancestors  as  the  penalty  of  the  first 
transgression ;  I  learned  to  feel  that  in  the  world  we  inhabit,  and 
with  such  faculties,  appetites,  and  passions  as  make  up  that  super 
lative  paradox  called  Man,  the  denunciation,  '  In  the  sweat  of  thy 
face  shalt  thou  eat  bread,'  was  in  fact  our  necessary,  vital  safeguard 
against  falling  into  the  lowest  abysses  of  depravity  and  misery. 
Only  through  the  inexorable  requirement  of  industry  has  our  race 
—  or,  more  strictly,  some  part  of  it  —  ever  risen  in  the  scale  of 
moral  being ;  and  this  only  where  such  necessity  was  urgent  and 
palpable.  Not  on  the  bleak  crests  and  amid  the  icy  gorges  of 
wind-swept  mountains,  but  in  unctuous,  sunny  vales,  amid  trop 
ical  verdure  and  luxuriance,  have  the  darker  aspects  of  human  in 
firmity  been  developed ;  not  unmeaning  was  the  first  great  visita 
tion  of  human  wickedness  by  deluge,  which  covered  soonest  the 
low  intervales,  the  deltas  of  rivers,  and  seaside  glades,  so  rich  in 
corn  and  cattle,  so  fertile  also  in  pride  and  sin.  Sodom  and  Go- 
morrah,  Herculaneum  and  Pompeii,  Catania,  Caracas,  and  a  hun 
dred  other  victims  of  some  gigantic  outpouring  of  judgment,  unite 
in  attesting  that  where  least  labor  is  required  to  satisfy  his  physical 
needs,  there  is  man's  moral  raggedness  most  flagrant  and  repulsive. 
No  well-informed  naturalist  need  be  told  that  Iceland  is  more  moral 
than  Madagascar ;  he  finds  this  fact  graven  on  the  earth,  foreorr 
dained  through  eternal  and  immutable  laws.  And  it  is  not  too 
much  to  say,  that,  if  the  doom  of  Adam  could  be  so  far  remitted 
that  all  man's  primary  and  inexorable  wants  should  henceforth  be 
satisfied  without  labor  on  his  part,  there  is  no  power  on  earth  that 
could  save  him  from  sinking,  gradually  but  inevitably,  into  a  bru 
tish  and  debauched  Australian  or  Patagonian  barbarism, 

"  Our  primitive  conceptions  of  integrity  are  derived  from  work, 
As  a  problem  is  something  to  be  proved  or  tested,  so  probity  is 


.  SLAVERY   AND    LABOR.  447 

character  that  has  been  subjected  to  the  ordeal  and  has  stood  the 
test,  —  in  other  words,  is  integrity  proved.  All  the  processes  of 
industry,  all  the  operations  of  Nature,  imply  honesty  and  truth.  If 
any  man  ever  made  bass-wood  seeds,  he  certainly  made  them  to 
sell,  not  to  plant ;  and  no  knave  ever  imagined  that  he  could  hood 
wink  or  dupe  Nature  by  the  semblance  of  service  without  the  real 
ity.  The  ploughman  is  always  honest  toward  her,  for  he  holds  his 
livelihood  by  the  tenor  of  such  fidelity :  it  is  only  when  he  ceases 
to  be  a  producer,  and  appears  in  the  radically  different  attitude  of  a 
trader,  or  vender  of  his  products,  that  he  is  tempted  to  be  a  knave. 
All  Nature's  processes  are  hearty,  earnest,  thorough ;  and  man,  if 
he  would  aid,  direct,  or  profit  by  her  evolutions,  must  approach 
her  with  frank  sincerity.  Hence,  I  hold  that  no  man  ever  really 
loved  work  and  was  content  to  live  by  it  who  was  not  essentially 
honest  and  upright,  and  did  not  tend  to  become  day  by  day  more 
manly  and  humane. 

"  This  very  hour,  the  lumbermen  of  the  Ottawa  are  driving  the 
first  approaches  of  persistent  civilization  to  a  point  nearer  the  pole 
than  was  ever  before  attained  on  this  eastern  slope  of  our  conti 
nent.  Among  the  pines  of  the  Aroostook,  the  Saginaw,  the  Wis 
consin,  the  Minnesota,  the  axes  of  the  woodmen  are  hewing  out 
the  timbers  of  many  a  stately  edifice,  which  a  coming  summer  shall 
see  rise  among  the  shrines  of  traffic  by  the  far  shores  of  the  Atlan 
tic  Ocean.  To-day,  for  the  first  time  since  the  flood,  is  the  sun  let 
in  upon  spot  after  spot  in  the  great  Western  wilderness,  on  which 
a  rude  cabin  shall  emerge  from  amid  smoke  and  stumps  next  sum 
mer, —  a  warm  hearth-stone  within,  and  sturdy,  fair-haired  chil 
dren  playing  around  it.  Pass  a  few  years  more,  and  that  little  dot 
of  blackened  clearing  will  have  gradually  eaten  away  the  encircling 
woods,  and  given  a  hand  to  the  newer  adjacent  clearings  on  either 
side ;  and  soon  commodious  dwellings,  fair  villages,  the  hum  of 
steady,  prosperous  industry,  and  all  the  manifestations  of  civilized 
life  will  have  supplanted  the  howl  of  the  wolf  and  all  the  sullen  in 
fluences  of  perpetual  shade.  Around  no  Silistria  or  Sevastopol,  in 
no  Crimea  or  Dobrodja,  is  the  drama  of  man's  life-struggle  being 
enacted,  but  in  the  freshly  trodden  wilds  of  Iowa  and  Minnesota, 
on  the  rolling  prairies  of  Kansas,  in  the  far  glens  of  Utah,  and  along 
the  great  future  highway  across  the  continent,  where  California 
beckons  to  her  Eastern  sisters,  and  points  them  to  the  wealth  and 


44$  SLAVERY    AND    LABOR.  . 

work  which  stretch  beyond  her,  and  across  the  great  Pacific  and 
among  the  isles  of  the  Indian  tropic.  Not  with  the  sword,  but 
with  the  axe,  does  man  hew  out  his  path  to  a  higher  and  purer 
civilization ;  and  the  measure  of  his  present  attainment  is  his  re 
gard  for  the  humble  and  untinselled,  but  mighty  and  beneficent  arts 
of  peace. 

"  Can  it  be  wondered,  then,  that  I,  a  child  of  many  generations 
of  cotters  and  drudging  delvers,  should  ponder  and  dream  over 
THE  ELEVATION  OF  LABOR  to  something  like  the  dignity  and  esteem 
which  its  merits  and  its  utility  demand  ?  What  can  be  more  nat 
ural  than  that  I  should  ask  whether  this  fair  and  stately  structure 
of  society,  wherein  we  are  so  amply  sheltered  and  shielded,  must 
always  rest  heavily  on  those  by  whom  its  foundations  were  laid 
and  its  walls  erected  ?  If  a  peer  may  without  reproach  '  stand  by 
his  order,'  why  may  not  a  peasant  as  well? 

"For  still,  to  the  earnest  vision,  the  condition  of  the  worker  — 
even  in -this  favored  region  —  is  a  rugged  and  hard  one.  He  is  not 
respected  by  others ;  he  too  often  does  not  respect  himself.  Work 
ing  in  the  main  either  because  he  must  work  or  starve,  or  in  order 
that  he  may  be  raised  above  the  necessity  of  working,  he  does  not 
accept  labor  as  a  benignantly  appointed  destiny,  but  as  a  vindic 
tively  denounced  penalty  which  he  must  endure  as  unmurmuringly 
and  finish  as  speedily  as  possible.  Happiness  in  the  vulgar  con 
ception  being  compounded  of  idleness  and  the  most  unlimited  grati 
fication  of  the  sensual  appetites,  and  this  happiness  being  the  '  end 
and  aim '  of  every  earthly  effort,  it  is  inevitable  that  the  worker 
should  be  regarded  alike  by  himself  and  by  others  as  one  who  has 
thus  far  failed,  and  who  is  therefore  obnoxious  to  the  stigma  which 
the  common  mind  ever  affixes  to  the  unsuccessful. 

"  The  institution  of  human  slavery  appears  to  me  the  logical  cul 
mination  and  result  of  the  popular  ideas  respecting  labor;  for  if 
labor  be  essentially  and  necessarily  an  infliction,  a  penalty,  a  curse, 
then  it  is  but  human  nature  that  each  should  endeavor  to  do  as 
little  of  it  as  possible.  If  the  obligation  to  work  be  a  bolt  of 
Divine  wrath,  then  it  is  to  be  expected  that  man  should  seek  to 
interpose  some  other  body  between  his  dodging  head  and  the  ce 
lestial  vengeance.  Teach  a  child  that  labor  is  not  a  good  to  be  ac 
cepted  and  improved,  but  an  evil  to  be  shunned  and  shirked,  and 
you  have  impelled  him  far  on  the  road  to  the  slave-jockey's  pen  as 
a  cheapener  and  customer. 


SLAVERY  AND   LABOR.  449 

"I  do  not  marvel,  then,  that  slavery  has  so  long  cursed  the  earth; 
I  see  clearly  that  it  could  not  have  failed  to  do  so.  To  the  pre 
mise  that  labor  is  an  evil  to  be  shunned  so  far  as  possible  add  the 
assumption  that  war  and  conquest  are  legitimate,  and  slavery  fol 
lows  of  course.  I  have  vanquished  my  enemy  in  battle,  and  have 
a  right  to  kill  him ;  but  that  would  be  too  costly  and  transient  a 
gratification,  when  I  can  save  him  to  take  my  place  in  the  field  or 
the  shop;  to  receive  that  share  of  the  primal  curse  which  was 
providentially  intended  for  me;  to  be  my  substitute  in  all  cases 
where  I  would  rather  not  perform  a  duty  in  person,  and  the  butt 
of  my  ill-humor,  whenever,  through  his  fault,  or  mine,  or  neither, 
my  plans  miscarry,  and  my  hopes  are  blasted  by  defeat.  My  slave 
or  captive,  having  been  spared  by  my  clemency,  and  living  only  at 
my  mercy,  owes  me  boundless  obedience  and  service,  while  I  owe 
him  nothing  but  such  food  and  clothing  as  will  keep  him  alive  and 
in  condition  to  perform  that  service.  I  have  become  to  him  Church, 
State,  and  Providence, — Law,  Conscience,  and  Divinity,  —  and  he 
can  only  go  amiss  by  disobeying  my  commands.  If  he  have  wife 
or  children,  they  too  are  mine,  or  his  only  in  subordination  to  my 
interests  and  my  will ;  those  children  would  not  have  been  but  for 
my  clemency ;  they  too  owe  everything  to  me,  and  must  live  only 
for  my  convenience,  advantage,  and  profit.  Thus  the  system  ac 
quires  a  self-perpetuating  quality,  and  may  endure,  even  without 
fresh  wars  and  subjugations,  to  the  end  of  time.  And,  so  far  as 
the  enslaver  can  realize,  it  is  a  most  convenient  and  satisfactory 
system,  —  supplying  him  with  hands  to  do  his  work,  feet  to  run 
his  errands,  eyes  to  watch  and  arms  to  guard  his  possessions,  and 
ready  ministers  to  every  whim  or  lust. 

"But  though  eternal  laws  may  thus,  in  one  sense,  be  defied, 
their  penalties  cannot  be  evaded.  The  stern  Nemesis  is  ever  close 
on  the  heels  of  the  transgressor.  A  household  of  masters  and 
slaves,  of  sacrificers  and  victims,  can  never  be  a  loving  and  happy 
home.  It  includes  too  many  crushed  aspirations,  outraged  sensi 
bilities,  unavenged  wrongs.  The  children  of  both  master  and  slave 
are  in  false  positions :  the  former  necessarily  grow  up  self-willed, 
overbearing,  indolent;  the  latter,  abject,  servile,  false,  and  devoid 
of  self-respect.  Vainly  shall  the  master  seek,  in  such  a  presence, 
to  imbue  his  children  with  lessons  of  industry,  humility,  and  defer 
ence  ;  for  to  every  such  lesson  the  ready  response  will  be :  '  What 
are  slaves  for,  if  not  to  minister  to  our  convenience  and  enjoyment? 


450  SLAVERY   AND    LABOR. 

If  we  are  to  work,  to  be  frugal,  to  wait  upon  ourselves,  why  should 
we  endure  the  presence,  the  low  moral  development,  the  care  and 
responsibility,  of  these  Helots  ?  If  we  do  all  for  ourselves,  at  least 
give  us  opportunity,  give  us  room ! '  The  moment  a  master  re 
solves  to  square  his  life  and  that  of  his  family  by  the  golden  rule, 
the  presence  and  direction  of  a  lot  of  stupid,  sensual,  indolent  slaves 
is  felt  to  be  a  nuisance  and  a  burden. 

"And,  while  it  is  true  that  slavery  is  the  logical  consequence, 
the  Corinthian  capital,  of  the  popular  notions  respecting  labor,  it  is 
none  the  less  certain  that  the  arts  —  which  flourish  where  the  la 
borer  is  free  from  any  constraint  but  that  of  his  own  aspirations, 
appetites,  and  needs  —  flicker  and  die  out  where  slavery  bears 
sway.  In  our  own  sunny  South  —  answering  to  the  Italy,  Greece, 
Asia  Minor,  and  Carthage  of  the  Old  World  —  there  is  the  best  of 
ship-timber,  yet  the  cotton  and  tobacco  there  grown  seek  distant 
markets,  in  Northern  vessels,  sailed  by  sons  of  New  England,  and 
manned  by  Yankee  crews.  Northern  merchants  and  clerks  fill 
their  seaports  and  buy  their  crops ;  Northern  teachers  instruct  their 
children,  so  far  as  they  are  taught  at  all ;  their  time  is  measured  by 
Yankee  clocks,  and  their  tables  set  with  Northern  or  European 
dishes ;  in  short,  about  the  only  trophy  of  human  genius  peculiar 
to  the  Southrons  is  the  cotton-gin,  which  they  stole  from  Whit 
ney,  a  Yankee.  And  every  one  who  has  travelled  or  lived  there 
must  be  conscious  that  life  is  far  ruder  and  poorer  among  the 
planters  than  in  the  corresponding  class  in  any  non-slaveholding 
region  of  the  civilized  world ;  and  that,  beyond  a  bountiful  supply 
of  coarse  and  ill-cooked  food,  the  majority  of  Southern  homes  are 
devoid  of  nearly  everything  which  civilized  men  consider  essential 
to  the  comfort  of  life. 

"  Do  I  state  these  facts  with  'a  feeling  of  exultation  ?  Surely  not. 
I  state  them  only  to  enforce  the  vital  truth  that  MAN  MUST  CREATE 
IN  ORDER  TO  ENJOY.  He  must  produce,  if  he  would  find  pleasure  in 
consuming ;  must  do  good  to  others,  in  order  to  secure  good  to 
himself.  In  other  words,  work  is  not  a  curse  to  be  escaped,  but  a 
blessing  to  be  accepted  and  improved.  If  every  freeman  now  on 
earth  were  offered  a  dozen  slaves,  I  fear  nine  tenths  know  no  better 
than  to  accept;  yet,  I  feel  sure,  also,  that,  simply  as  a  question  of 
personal  loss  and  gain,  it  would  be  better  for  any  one  of  them  to  be 
burned  out  of  house  and  home  than  to  receive  such  a  Trojan  horse 
into  his  keeping." 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

ACROSS  THE  PLAINS  TO  CALIFORNIA. 

Farewell  to  civilization— The  buffaloes  on  the  Plains— Conversation  with  Brigham  Young 
—Remarks  upon  polygamy— Visit  to  the  Yo  Semite  Valley— Eeception  at  Sacramento 
— at  San  Francisco. 

IN  the  summer  of  1859  Mr.  G-reeley  made  his  celebrated  journey 
across  the  Plains  to  California,  the  particulars  of  which,  according 
to  his  custom,  he  related  to  his  readers.  The  manner  in  which  he 
announced  his  purpose  was  characteristic :  "  About  the  1st  of  Oc- 
ber  next  we  are  to  have  a  State  election;  then  a  city  contest;  then 
the  organization  and  long  session  of  a  new  Congress ;  then  a  Presi 
dential  struggle;  then  Congress  again;  which  brings  us  to  the 
forming  of  a  new  national  administration  and  the  summer  of  1861. 
If,  therefore,  I  am  to  have  any  respite  from  editorial  labor  for  the 
next  two  years  I  must  take  it  now."  So  on  the  9th  of  May,  1859, 
he  left  New  York  for  a  trip  across  the  continent. 

From  his  letters  and  other  sources  I  glean  a  few  of  the  more 
peculiar  and  interesting  incidents. 

HIS   FAREWELL   TO    CIVILIZATION   AT   PIKE'S   PEAK. 

"  I  believe  I  have  now  descended  the  ladder  of  artificial  life 
nearly  to  its  lowest  round.  If  the  Cheyennes  —  thirty  of  whom 
stopped  the  last  express  down  on  the  route  we  must  traverse,  and 
tried  to  beg  or  steal  from  it  —  should  see  fit  to  capture  and  strip 
us,  we  should  of  course  have  further  experience  in  the  same  line ; 
but  for  the  present  the  progress  I  have  made  during  the  last  fort 
night  toward  the  primitive  simplicity  of  human  existence  may  be 
roughly  noted  thus  :  — 

"May  12th,  Chicago.  —  Chocolate  and  morning  newspapers  last 
Been  on  the  breakfast-table. 

"23rf,  Leavenworth.  —  Room-bells  and  baths  make  their  last  ap 
pearance. 

"  24th,  TopeTca.  —  Beefsteak  and  washbowls  (other  than  tin)  last 
visible.  Barber  ditto. 


452  ACROSS   THE   PLAINS   TO  CALIFORNIA. 

"26<A,  Manhattan.  —  Potatoes  and  eggs  last  recognized  among 
the  blessings  that  '  brighten  as  they  take  their  flight.'  Chairs  ditto. 

"  27th,  Junction  City.  —  Last  visitation  of  a  bootblack,  with  dis 
solving  views  of  a  board  bedroom.  Chairs  bid  us  good  by. 

"2Sth,  Pipe  Creek.  —  Benches  for  seats  at  meals  have  disap 
peared,  giving  place  to  bags  and  boxes.  We  (two  passengers  of  a 
scribbling  turn)  write  our  letters  in  the  express  wagon  that  has 
borne  us  by  day,  and  must  supply  us  lodgings  for  the  night.  Thun 
der  and  lightning  from  both  south  and  west  give  strong  promise  of 
a  shower  before  morning.  Dubious  looks  at  several  holes  in  the 
canvas  covering  of  the  wagon.  Our  trust  is  in  buoyant  hearts  and 
an  India-rubber  blanket." 


HE   SEES   THE   BUFFALO. 

"All  day  yesterday  they  darkened  the  earth  around  us,  often 
seeming  to  be  drawn  up  like  an  army  in  battle  array  on  the  ridges 
and  adown  their  slopes  a  mile  or  so  south  of  us,  —  often  on  the 
north  as  well.  They  are  rather  shy  of  the  little  screens  of  strag 
gling  timber  on  the  creek  bottoms,  —  doubtless  from  their  sore  ex 
perience  of  Indians  lurking  therein  to  discharge  arrows  at  them  as 
they  went  down  to  drink.  If  they  feed  in  the  grass  of  the  narrow 
valleys  and  ravines,  they  are  careful  to  have  a  part  of  the  herd  on 
the  ridges  which  overlook  them,  and  with  them  the  surrounding 
country  for  miles.  And  when  an  alarm  is  given,  they  all  rush 
furiously  off  in  the  direction  which  the  leaders  presume  that  of 
safety. 

"  This  is  what  gives  us  such  excellent  opportunities  for  regarding 
them  to  the  best  advantage.  They  are  moving  northward,  and  are 
still  mainly  south  of  our  track.  Whenever  alarmed,  they  set  off  on 
their  awkward  but  effective  canter  to  the  great  herds  still  south,  or 
to  haunts  with  which  they  are  comparatively  familiar,  and  wherein 
they  have  hitherto  found  safety.  Of  course  this  sends  those  north 
of  us  across  our  way,  often  but  a  few  rods  in  front  of  us,  even  when 
they  had  started  a  mile  away.  Then  a  herd  will  commence  run 
ning  across  a. hundred  rods  ahead  of  us,  and,  the  whole  blindly  fol 
lowing  their  leader,  we  will  be  close  upon  them  before  the  last  will 
have  cleared  the  track.  Of  course  they  sometimes  stop  and  tack, 
or,  seeing  us,  sheer  off  and  cross  farther  ahead,  or  split  into  two 


HE    SEES    THE   BUFFALO.  453 

lines;  but  the  general  impulse,  when  alarmed,  is  to  follow  blindly 
and  at  full  speed,  seeming  not  to  inquire  or  consider  from  what 
quarter  danger  is  to  be  apprehended. 

"  What  strikes  the  stranger  with  most  amazement  is  their  immense 
numbers.  I  know  a  million  is  a  great  many,  but  I  am  confident 
we  saw  that  number  yesterday.  Certainly,  all  we  saw  could  not 
have  stood  on  ten  square  miles  of  ground.  Often  the  country  for 
miles  on  either  hand  seemed  quite  black  with  them.  The  soil  is 
rich,  and  well  matted  with  their  favorite  grass.  Yet  it  is  all  (ex 
cept  a  very  little  on  the  creek  bottoms,  near  to  timber)  eaten  down 
like  an  overtaxed  sheep-pasture  in  a  dry  August.  Consider  that 
we  have  traversed  more  than  one  hundred  miles  in  width  since  we 
first  struck  them,  and  that  for  most  of  this  distance  the  buffalo  have 
been  constantly  in  sight,  and  that  they  continue  for  some  twenty- 
five  miles  farther  on,  —  this  being  the  breadth  of  their  present  range, 
which  has  a  length  of  perhaps  a  thousand  miles,  and  you  have  some 
approach  to  an  idea  of  their  countless  millions.  I  doubt  whether 
the  domesticated  horned  cattle  of  the  United  States  equal  the  num 
bers,  while  they  must  fall  considerably  short  in  weight,  of  these 
wild  ones.  Margaret  Fuller  long  ago  observed  that  the  Illinois 
prairies  seemed  to  repel  the  idea  of  being  new  to  civilized  life  and 
industry;  that  they,  with  their  borders  of  trees  and  belts  of  tim 
ber,  reminded  the  traveller  rather  of  the  parks  and  spacious  fields 
of  an  old  country  like  England ;  that  you  were  constantly  on  the 
involuntary  lookout  for  the  chateaux,  or  at  least  the  humbler  farm 
houses,  which  should  diversify  such  a  scene.  True  as  this  is  or 
was  in  Illinois,  the  resemblance  is  far  more  striking  here,  where  the 
grass  is  all  so  closely  pastured  and  the  cattle  are  seen  in  such  vast 
herds  on  every  ridge.  The  timber,  too,  aids  the  resemblance,  seem 
ing  to  have  been  reduced  to  the  last  degree  consistent  with  the 
wants  of  a  grazing  country,  and  to  have  been  left  only  on  the  steep 
creek-banks  where  grass  would  not  grow.  It  is  hard  to  realize 
that  this  is  the  centre  of  a  region  of  wilderness  and  solitude,  so  far 
as  the  labors  of  civilized  man  are  concerned,  —  that  the  first  wagon 
passed  through  it  some  two  months  ago.  But  the  utter  absence  of 
houses  or  buildings  of  any  kind,  and  our  unbridged,  unworked 
road,  winding  on  its  way  for  hundreds  of  miles,  without  a  track 
other  than  of  buffalo  intersecting  or  leading  away  from  it  on  either 
hand,  brings  us  -back  to  the  reality. 


454  ACROSS    THE   PLAINS    TO    CALIFORNIA. 

^ 

"  I  shall  pass  lightly  over  the  hunting  exploits  of  our  party.  A 
good  many  shots  have- been  fired,  —  of  course  not  by  me ;  even  were 
I  in  the  habit  of  making  war  on  wild  Nature's  children,  I  would  as 
soon  think  of  shooting  my  neighbor's  oxen  as  these  great,  clumsy, 
harmless  creatures.  If  they  were  scarce,  I  might  comprehend  the 
idea  of  hunting  them  for  sport ;  here,  they  are  so  abundant  that 
you  might  as  well  hunt  your  neighbor's  geese.  And,  while  there 
have  been  several  shots  fired  by  our  party  at  point-blank  distances, 
I  have  reason  for  my  hope  that  no  buffalo  has  experienced  any  per 
sonal  inconvenience  therefrom." 

HE  ALSO  HAS  A  TASTE  OF  THE  ELEPHANT. 

"  Two  evenings  since,  just  as  we  were  nearing  Station  17,  where 
we  were  to  stop  for  the  night,  my  fellow-passenger  and  I  had  a 
jocular  discussion  on  the  gullies  into  which  we  were  so  frequently 
plunged,  to  our  personal  discomfort.  He  premised  that  it  was  a 
consolation  that  the  sides  of  these  gullies  could  not  be  worse  than, 
perpendicular:  to  which  I  replied  with  the  assertion  that  they 
could  be  and  were ;  for  instance,  where  a  gully,  in  addition  to  its 
perpendicular  descent,  had  an  inclination  of  forty-five  degrees  or  so 
to  one  side  the  track.  Just  then  a  violent  lurch  of  the  wagon  to 
one  side,  then  to  the  other,  in  descending  one  of  these  jolts,  en 
forced  my  position.  Two  minutes  later,  as  we  were  about  to  de 
scend  the  steep  bank  of  the  creek  intervale,  the  mules  acting  per 
versely,  my  friend  stepped  out  to  take  them  by  the  head,  leaving 
me  alone  in  the  wagon.  Just  then  we  began  to  descend  the  steep 
pitch,  the  driver  pulling  up  with  all  his  might,  when  the  left  rein 
of  the  leaders  broke,  and  the  team  was  in  a  moment  sheered  out  of 
the  road  and  ran  diagonally  down  the  pitch.  In  a  second,  the 
wagon  went  over,  hitting  the  ground  a  most  spiteful  blow.  I,  of 
course,  went  over  with  it;  and  when  I  rose  to  my  feet,  as  soon  as 
possible,  considerably  bewildered  and  dishevelled,  the  mules  had 
been  disengaged  by  the  upset,  and  were  making  good  time  across 
the  prairie,  while  the  driver,  considerably  hurt,  was  getting  out  from 
under  the  carriage  to  limp  after  them.  I  had  a  slight  cut  on  my 
left  cheek,  and  a  worse  one  below  the  left  knee,  with  a  pretty  smart 
concussion  generally,  but  not  a  bone  started  nor  a  tendon  strained, 
and  I  walked  away  to  the  station  as  firmly  as  ever,  leaving  the 
superintendent  and  my  fellow-passenger  to  pick  up  the  pieces,  and 


HE   CONVERSES   WITH   BRIGHAM   YOUNG.  455 

guard  the  baggage  from  the  Indians,  who  instantly  swarmed  about 
the  wreck.  I  am  sore  yet,  and  a  little  lame,  but  three  or  four  days' 
rest — if  I  can  ever  get  it — will  make  all  right." 

HE    ENCOUNTERS    AN    OLD    ENEMY. 

"  Of  the  seventeen  bags  on  which  I  have  ridden  for  the  last  four 
days,  at  least  sixteen  are  filled  with  large  bound  books,  mainly 
Patent  Office  Reports,  I  judge,  but  all  of  them  undoubtedly  works 
ordered  printed  at  the  public  cost — your  cost,  reader!  —  by  Con 
gress,  and  now  on  their  way  to  certain  favored  Mormons,  franked 
(by  proxy)  'Pub.  Doc.  Free,  J.  M.  Bernhisel,  M.  C.'  I  do  not 
blame  Mr.  B.  for  clutching  his  share  of  this  public  plunder,  and 
distributing  it  so  as  to  increase  his  own  popularity  and  impor 
tance;  but  I  do  protest  against  this  business  of  printing  books  by 
wholesale  at  the  cost  of  the  whole  people,  for  free  distribution  to  a 
part  only.  It  is  every  way  wrong  and  pernicious.  Of  the  $  190,000 
per  annum  paid  for  carrying  the  Salt  Lake  mail,  nine  tenths  is  ab 
sorbed  in  the  cost  of  carrying  these  franked  documents  to  people 
who  contribute  little  or  nothing  to  the  support  of  the  government 
in  any  way.  Is  this  fair  ?  Each  Patent  Office  Report  will  have 
cost  the  Treasury  four  or  five  dollars  by  the  time  it  reaches  its  des 
tination,  and  will  not  be  valued  by  the  receiver  at  twenty-five 
cents.  Why  should  this  business  go  oh?  Whj^  not  'reform  it 
altogether'?  Let  Congress  print  whatever  documents  are  needed 
for  its  own  information,  and  leave  the  people  to  choose  and  buy  for 
themselves  ?  I  have  spent  four  days  and  five  nights  in  close  con 
tact  with  the  sharp  edges  of  Mr.  Bernhisel's  'Pub.  Doc.';  have 
done  my  very  utmost  to  make  them  present  a  smooth,  or  at'  least 
endurable  surface;  and  I  am  sure  there  is  no  slumber  to  be  ex 
tracted  therefrom  unless  by  reading  them,  —  a  desperate  resort 
which  no  rational  person  would  recommend.  For  all  practical  pur 
poses  they  might  as  well — now  that  the  printer  has  been  paid  for 
them — be  where  I  heartily  wish  they  were, — in  the  bottom  of 
the  sea." 

HE  CONVERSES   WITH   BRIGHAM   YOUNG. 

"  My  friend,  Dr.  Bernhisel,  M.  C.,  took  me  this  afternoon,  by  ap 
pointment,  to  meet  Brigham  Young,  President  of  the  Mormon 


456  ACROSS    THE    PLAINS    TO    CALIFORNIA. 

Church,  who  had  expressed  a  willingness  to  receive  me  at  2,  P.  M. 
We  were  very  cordially  welcomed  at  the  door  by  the  President, 
who  led  us  into  the  second-story  parlor  of  the  largest  of  his  houses 
(he  has  three),  where  I  was  introduced  to  Heber  C.  Kimball,  Gen 
eral  Wells,  General  Ferguson,  Albert  Carrington,  Elias  Smith,  and 
several  other  leading  men  in  the  Church,  with  two  full-grown  sons 
of  the  President.  After  some  unimportant  conversation  on  general 
topics,  I  stated  that  I  had  come  in  quest  of  fuller  knowledge  re 
specting  the  doctrines  and  polity  of  the  Mormon  Church,  and  would 
like  to  ask  some  questions  bearing  directly  on  these,  if  there  were 
no  objection.  President  Young  avowing  his  willingness  to  respond 
to  all  pertinent  inquiries,  the  conversation  proceeded  substantially 
as  follows:  — 

"  H.  G.  Am  I  to  regard  Mormonism  (so  called)  as  a  new  religion, 
or  as  simply  a  new  development  of  Christianity  ? 

"B.  Y.  We  hold  that  there  can  be  no  true  Christian  Church  with 
out  a  priesthood  directly  commissioned  by  and  in  immediate  com 
munication  with  the  Son  of  God  and  Saviour  of  mankind.  Such  a 
church  is  that  of  the  Latter-Day  Saints,  called  by  their  enemies 
Mormons;  we  know  no  other  that  even  pretends  to  have  present 
and  direct  revelations  of  God's  will. 

"  H.  G.  Then  I  am  to  understand  that  you  regard  all  other 
churches  professing  to  be  Christian  as  the  Church  of  Rome  regards  all 
churches  not  in  communion  with  itself,  —  as  schismatic,  heretical, 
and  out  of  the  way  of  salvation  ? 

UB.   Y.   Yes,  substantially. 

"  H.  G.  Apart  from  this,  in  what  respect  do  your  doctrines  differ 
essentially  from  those  of  our  orthodox  Protestant  Churches,  —  the 
Baptist  or  Methodist,  for  example  ? 

"B.  Y.  We  hold  the  doctrines  of  Christianity  as  revealed  in  the 
Old  and  New  Testaments,  also  in  the  Book  of  Mormon,  which 
teaches  the  same  cardinal  truths,  and  those  only. 

"  H.  G.   Do  you  believe  in  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  ? 

11  B.  Y.  We  do;  but  not  exactly  as  it  is  held  by  other  churches. 
We  believe  in  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Ghost,  as  equal, 
but  not  identical, — not  as  one  person  [being].  We  believe  in  all 
the  Bible  teaches  on  this  subject. 

"  H.  G.  Do  you  believe  in  a  personal  Devil,  a  distinct,  conscious, 
spiritual  being,  whose  nature  and  acts  are  essentially  malignant  and 
evil? 


HE   CONVERSES   WITH   BEIGHAM   YOUNG.  457 

"B.  Y.   We  do. 

"  H.  G.   Do  you  hold  the  doctrine  of  eternal  punishment? 

" B.  Y.  We  do;  though  perhaps  not  exactly  as  other  churches 
do.  We  believe  it  as  the  Bible  teaches  it. 

"H.  G.  I  understand  that  you  regard  baptism  by  immersion  as 
essential 

"B.  Y.  We  do. 

"  H.  G.   Do  you  practise  infant  baptism? 

"B.  Y.  No. 

"  H.  G.  Do  you  make  removal  to  these  valleys  obligatory  on  your 
converts  ? 

"B.  Y.  They  would  consider  themselves  greatly  aggrieved  if  they 
were  not  invited  hither.  We  hold  to  such  a  gathering  together  of 
God's  people  as  the  Bible  foretells,  and  that  this  is  the*  place,  and 
now  is  the  time  appointed  for  its  consummation. 

"  H.  G.  The  predictions  to  which  you  refer  have  usually,  I  think, 
been  understood  to  indicate  Jerusalem  (or  Judasa)  as  the  place  of 
such  gathering.  , 

"  B.  Y.   Yes,  for  the  Jews ;  not  for  others. 

11  H.  G.  What  is  the  position  of  your  Church  with  respect  to 
slavery  ? 

"  B.  F.  We  consider  it  of  Divine  institution,  and  not  to  be  abol 
ished  until  the  curse  pronounced  on  Ham  shall  have  been  removed 
from  his  descendants. 

"  H.  G.   Are  any  slaves  now  held  in  this  Territory  ? 

"B.   Y.   There  are. 

"U.  G.   Do  your  Territorial  laws  uphold  slavery? 

"B.  Y.  Those  laws  are  printed,  you  can  read  for  yourself.  If 
slaves  are  brought  here  by  those  who  owned  them  in  the  States, 
we  do  not  favor  their  escape  from  the  service  of  those  owners. 

"H.  G.  Am  I  to  infer  that  Utah,  if  admitted  as  a  member  of  the 
Federal  Union,  will  be  a  slave  State  ? 

11  B.  Y.  No  •  she  will  be  a  free  State.  Slavery  here  would  prove 
useless  and  unprofitable.  I  regard  it  generally  as  a  curse  to  the 
masters.  I  myself  hire  many  laborers,  and  pay  them  fair  wages;  I 
could  not  afford  to  own  them.  I  can  do  better  than  subject  myself 
to  an  obligation  to  feed  and  clothe  their  families,  to  provide  and 
care  for  them  in  sickness  and  health.  Utah  is  not  adapted  to  slave 
labor. 

20 


458  ACROSS   THE   PLAINS   TO    CALIFORNIA. 

"H.  G.  Let  me  now  be  enlightened  with  regard  more  especially 
to  your  Church  polity.  I  understand  that  you  require  each  mem 
ber  to  pay  over  one  tenth  of  all  he  produces  or  earns  to  the  Church. 

UB.  Y.  That  is  a  requirement  of  our  faith.  There  is  no  compul 
sion  as  to  the  payment.  Each  member  acts  in  the  premises  accord-' 
ing  to  his  pleasure,  under  the  dictates  of  his  own  conscience. 

"H.  G.    What  is  done  with  the  proceeds  of  this  tithing  ? 

"  B.  Y.  Part  of  it  is  devoted  to  building  temples  and  other  places 
of  worship;  part  to  helping  the  poor  and  needy  converts  on  their 
way  to  this  country ;  and  the  largest  portion  to  the  support  of  the 
poor  among  the  Saints. 

"  H.  G.  Is  none  of  it  paid  to  bishops  and  other  dignitaries  of  the 
Church? 

"  B.  Y.  Not  one  penny.  No  bishop,  no  elder,  no  deacon,  or  other 
church  officer,  receives  any  compensation  for  his  official  services. 
A  bishop  is  often  required  to  put  his  hand  in  his  own  pocket  and 
provide  therefrom  for  the  poor  of  his  charge ;  but  he  never  receives 
anything  for  his  services. 

"  H.  G.    How,  then,  do  your  ministers  live  ? 

"  B.  F.  By  the  labor  of  their  own  hands,  like  the  first  Apostles. 
Every  bishop,  every  elder,  may  be  daily  seen  at  work  in  the  field 
or  the  shop,  like  his  neighbors;  every  minister  of  the  Church  has 
his  proper  calling  by  which  he  earns  the  bread  of  his  family;  he 
who  cannot  or  will  not  do  the  Church's  work  for  nothing  is  not 
wanted  in  her  service;  even  our  lawyers  (pointing  to  General  Fer 
guson  and  another  present,  who  are  the  regular  lawyers  of  the 
Church)  are  paid  nothing  for  their  services;  I  am  the  only  person 
in  the  Church  who  has  not  a  regular  calling  apart  from  the  Church's 
service,  and  I  never  received  one  farthing  from  her  treasury;  if  I 
obtain  anything  from  the  tithing-house,  I  am  charged  with  and 
pay  for  it,  just  as  any  one  else  would;  the  clerks  in  the  ti thing- 
store  are  paid  like  other  clerks,  but  no  one  is  ever  paid  for  any  ser 
vice  pertaining  to  the  ministry.  We  think  a  man  who  cannot  make 
his  living  aside  from  the  ministry  of  Christ  unsuited  to  that  office. 
I  am  called  rich,  and  consider  myself  worth  $  250,000 ;  but  no  dol 
lar  of  it  was  ever  paid  me  by  the  Church,  or  for  any  service  as  a 
minister  of  the  everlasting  Gospel.  I  lost  nearly  all  I  had  when  we 
were  broken  up  in  Missouri  and  driven  from  that  State.  I  was 
nearly  stripped  again  when  Joseph  Smith  was  murdered  and  we 


HE   CONVERSES   WITH   BRIGHAM   YOUNG.  459 

were  driven  from  Illinois;  but  nothing  was  ever  made  up  to  me  by 
the  Church,  nor  by  any  one.  I  believe  I  know  how  to  acquire 
property,  and  how  to  take  care  of  it. 

"  H.  G.  Can  you  give  me  any  rational  explanation  of  the  aversion 
and  hatred  with  which  your  people  are  generally  regarded  by  those 
among  whom  they  have  lived  and  with  whom  they  have  been 
brought  directly  in  contact? 

"B.  Y.  No  other  explanation  than  is  afforded  by  the  crucifixion 
of  Christ  and  the  kindred  treatment  of  God's  ministers,  prophets, 
and  saints  in  all  ages. 

"  H.  G.  I  know  that  a  new  sect  is  always  decried  and  traduced  ; 
that  it  is  hardly  ever  deemed  respectable  to  belong  to  one ;  that  the 
Baptists,  Quakers,  Methodists,  Universalists,  &c.,  have  each  in  their 
turn  been  regarded  in  the  infancy  of  their  sect  as  the  offscouring  of 
the  earth;  yet  I  cannot  remember  that  either  of  them  were  ever 
generally  represented  and  regarded  by  the  older  sects  of  their  early 
days  as  thieves,  robbers,  murderers. 

"  B.  Y.  If  you  will  consult  the  contemporary  Jewish  accounts  of 
the  life  and  acts  of  Jesus  Christ,  you  will  find  that  he  and  his  dis 
ciples  were  accused  of  every  abominable  deed  and  purpose, — rob 
bery  and  murder  included.  Such  a  work  is  still  extant,  and  may 
be  found  by  those  who  seek  it. 

"  H.  G.  What  do  you  say  of  the  so-called  Danites,  or  Destroy 
ing  Angels,  belonging  to  your  Church? 

"  B.  Y.  What  do  you  say  ?  I  know  of  no  such  band,  no  such  per 
sons  or  organization.  I  hear  of  them  only  in  the  slanders  of  our 
enemies. 

"H.  G.  With  regard,  then,  to  the  grave  question  on  which  your 
doctrines  and  practices  are  avowedly  at  war  with  those  of  the 
Christian  world, — that  of  a  plurality  of  wives, — is  the  system  of 
your  Church  acceptable  to  the  majority  of  its  women? 

"  B.  Y.  They  could  not  be  more  averse  to  it  than  I  was  when  it 
was  first  revealed  to  us  as  the  Divine  will.  I  think  they  generally 
accept  it,  as  I  do,  as  the  will  of  God. 

"  H.  G.   How  general  is  polygamy  among  you  ? 

"B.  F.  I  could  not  say.  Some  of  those  present  [heads  of  the 
Church]  have  each  but  one  wife;  others  have  more;  each  deter 
mines  what  is  his  individual  duty. 

"  H.  G.  What  is  the  largest  number  of  wives  belonging  to  any 
one  man? 


4GO  ACROSS   THE  PLAINS   TO   CALIFORNIA. 

"B.  Y.   I  have  fifteen;  I  know  no  one  who  has  more;  but  some 
of  those  sealed  to  me  are  old  ladies  whom  I  regard  rather  as  moth 
ers  than  wives,  but  whom  I  have  taken  home  to  cherish  and  support. 
"  H.  G.   Does  not  the  Apostle  Paul  say  that  a  bishop  should  be 
1  the  husband  of  one  wife '  ? 

"  B.  Y.  So  we  hold.  We  do  not  regard  any  but  a  married  man 
as  fitted  for  the  office  of  bishop.  But  the  apostle  does  not  forbid  a 
bishop  having  more  wives  than  one. 

"  H.  G.  Does  not  Christ  say  that  he  who  puts  away  his  wife,  or 
marries  one  whom  another  has  put  away,  commits  adultery  ? 

"  B.  Y.  Yes ;  and  I  hold  that  no  man  should  ever  put  away  a  wife 
except  for  adultery,  —  not  always  even  for  that.  Such  is  my  indi 
vidual  view  of  the  matter.  I  do  not  say  that  wives  have  never 
been  put  away  in  our  Church,  but  that  I  do  not  approve  of  the 
practice. 

11  H.  G.  How  do  you  regard  what  is  commonly  termed  the  Chris 
tian  Sabbath? 

"B.  Y.  As  a  divinely  appointed  day  of  rest.  We  enjoin  all  to  rest 
from  secular  labor  on  that  day.  We  would  have  no  man  enslaved 
to  the  Sabbath,  but  we  enjoin  all  to  respect  and  enjoy  it." 

HIS   OPINION   OF   POLYGAMY. 

"  I  have  enjoyed  opportunities  for  visiting  Mormons,  and  study 
ing  Mormonism  in  the  homes  of  its  votaries,  and  of  discussing  with 
them  what  the  outside  world  regards  as  its  distinguishing  feature, 
in  the  freedom  of  friendly  social  intercourse.  In  one  instance,  a 
veteran  apostle  of  the  faith,  having  first  introduced  to  me  a  worthy 
matron  of  fifty-five  or  sixty  —  the  wife  of  his  youth  and  the 
mother  of  his  grown-up  sons  —  as  Mrs.  T.,  soon  after  introduced  a 
young  and  winning  lady,  of  perhaps  twenty-five  summers,  in  these 
words :  '  Here  is  another  Mrs.  T.'  This  lady  is  a  recent  emigrant 
from  our  State,  of  more  than  average  powers  of  mind  and  graces 
of  person,  who  came  here  with  her  brother,  as  a  convert,  a  little 
over  a  year  ago,  and  has  been  the  sixth  wife  of  Mr.  T.  since  a  few 
weeks  after  her  arrival.  (The  intermediate  four  wives  of  Elder  T. 
live  on  a  farm  or  farms  some  miles  distant.)  The  manner  of  the 
husband  was  perfectly  unconstrained  and  off-hand  throughout ;  but 
I  could  not  well  be  mistaken  in  my  conviction  that  both  ladies  failed 
to  conceal  dissatisfaction  with  their  position  in  the  eyes  of  their 


HIS   OPINION   OF   POLYGAMY.  461 

visitor  and  of  the  world.  They  seemed  to  feel  that  it  needed  vin 
dication.  Their  manner  toward  each  other  was  most  cordial  and 
sisterly,  — sincerely  so,  I  doubt  not, — but  this  is  by  no  means  the 
rule.  A  Gentile  friend,  whose  duties  require  him  to  travel  widely 
over  the  Territory,  informs  me  that  he  has  repeatedly  stopped  with 
a  Bishop,  some  hundred  miles  south  of  this,  whose  two  wives  he 
has  never  known  to  address  each  other,  or  evince  the  slightest  cor 
diality,  during  the  hours  he  has  spent  in  their  society.  The  Bish 
op's  house  consists  of  two  rooms ;  and  when  my  informant  stayed 
there  with  a  Gentile  friend,  the  Bishop  being  absent,  one  wife  slept 
in  the  same  apartment  with  them,  rather  than  in  that  occupied  by 
her  double.  I  presume  that  an  extreme  case,  but  the  spirit  which 
impels  it  is  not  unusual.  I  met  this  evening  a  large  party  of  young 
people,  consisting  in  nearly  equal  numbers  of  husbands  and  wives; 
but  no  husband  was  attended  by  more  than  one  wife,  and  no  gen 
tleman  admitted  or  implied,  in  our  repeated  and  animated  discus 
sions  of  polygamy,  that  he  had  more  than  one  wife.  And  I  was 
again  struck  by  the  circumstance  that  here,  as  heretofore,  no  wo 
man  indicated  by  word  or  look  her  approval  of  any  argument  in 
favor  of  polygamy.  That  many  women  acquiesce  in  it  as  an  ordi 
nance  of  God,  and  have  been  drilled  into  a  mechanical  assent  to  the 
logic  by  which  it  is  upheld,  I  believe ;  but  that  there  is  not  a  wo 
man  in  Utah  who  does  not  in  her  heart  wish  that  God  had  not  or 
dained  it  I  am  confident.  And  quite  a  number  of  the  young  men 
treat  it  in  conversation  as  a  temporary  or  experimental  arrange 
ment,  which  is  to  be  sustained  or  put  aside  as  experience  shall 
demonstrate  its  utility  or  mischief.  One  old  Mormon  farmer,  with 
whom  I  discussed  the  matter  privately,  admitted  that  it  was  impos 
sible  for  a  poor  working-man  to  have  a  well-ordered,  well-governed 
household,  where  his  children  had  two  or  more  living  mothers  oc 
cupying  the  same  ordinary  dwelling.  On  the  whole,  I  conclude 
that  polygamy,  as  it  was  a  graft  on  the  original  stock  of  Mormon- 
ism,  will  be  outlived  by  the  root;  that  there  will  be  a  new  revela 
tion  ere  many  years,  whereby  the  Saints  will  be  admonished  to 
love  and  cherish  the  wives  they  already  have,  but  not  to  marry  any 
more  beyond  the  natural  assignment  of  one  wife  to  each  husband. 
"  I  regret  that  I  have  found  time  and  opportunity  to  visit  but  one 
of  the  nineteen  common  schools  of  this  city.  This  was  thinly  at 
tended  by  children  nearly  all  quite  young,  and  of  the  most  rudi- 


462  ACROSS   THE   PLAINS   TO   CALIFORNIA. 

mentary  attainments.  Their  phrenological  developments  were,  in 
the  average,  bad;  I  say  this  with  freedom,  since  I  have  stated  that 
those  of  the  adults,  as  I  noted  them  in  the  Tabernacle,  were  good. 
But  I  am  told  that  idiotic  or  malformed  children  are  very  rare,  if 
not  unknown  here.  The  male  Saints  emphasize  the  fact  that  a  ma 
jority  of  the  children  born  here  are  girls,  holding  it  a  proof  that 
Providence  smiles  on  their  "  peculiar  institution  " ;  I,  on  the  con 
trary,  maintain  that  such  is  the  case  in  all  polygamous  countries, 
and  proves  simply  a  preponderance  of  vigor  on  the  part  of  the 
mothers  over  that  of  the  fathers  wherever  this  result  is  noted.  I 
presume  that  a  majority  of  the  children  of  old  husbands  by  young 
wives  in  any  community  are  girls." 

MR.    GREELEY   EXCITES   CONSTERNATION. 

While  the  editor  of  the  Tribune  was  pursuing  his  journey  across 
the  continent,  a  California  paper  published  a  burlesque  paragraph 
to  the  effect  that  he  "  was  on  his  way  to  California  to  take  command 
of  all  the  filibusters  to  be  found  there;  that  Henningsen  and  Walker 
would  join  him  with  forces  collected  in  the  Atlantic  States ;  and 
that  the  whole  horde,  under  the  supreme  command  of  Horace  Gree- 
ley,  would  invade  Mexico  and  usurp  the  government  of  that  Ke- 
-  public.  A  copy  of  this  paper  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  commander 
at  Mazatlan,  and  he  at  once  issued  a  proclamation  informing  the 
people  that  '  one  Horace  Greeley,  a  most  diabolical,  bloodthirsty, 
and  unmerciful  man,  worse  than  the  infamous  Walker,  or  even  the 
minions  of  Miramon,  —  a  man  whose  very  name  struck  dread  to 
the  hearts  of  thousands  in  the  United  States,  so  many  were  his 
crimes  and  so  terrible  was  his  conduct,  —  is  now  at  the  head  of  the 
most  extensive  band  of  filibusters  ever  collected,  and  on  his  way 
to  Mexico ! '  He  then  exhorts  the  people  to  prepare  themselves 
for  instant  action,  and  concludes  thus :  '  This  dangerous  man  is  not 
of  the  common  school  of  filibusters :  they  wish  for  plunder,  he  for 
blood  and  murderous  deeds.' " 

THIRTEEN   HOURS    AT    SACRAMENTO. 

From  the  moment  of  his  arrival  in  California  to  that  of  hig  de 
parture  from  it  Mr.  Greeley  was  treated  as  a  public  guest.  As  a 
specimen  of  the  manner  in  which  he  was  received,  I  copy  the  fol 
lowing  from  the  "  Sacramento  Union  "  of  August  2,  1859. 


THIRTEEN    HOURS    AT    SACRAMENTO.  4G3 

tl  On  Sunday  the  committee  of  arrangements  held  an  informal  meeting,  and 
the  committee  of  reception  detailed  to  meet  him  at  Folsom  were  put  in  tele 
graphic  communication  with  the  master  of  ceremonies  at  Placerville ;  the  result 
of  which  was  an  agreement,  on  the  part  of  friends  of  the  distinguished  stranger 
in  the  latter  city,  to  deliver  him  on  Monday  afternoon,  in  good  order  and  sound 
condition,  by  private  conveyance,  to  such  of  his  friends  in  Sacramento  as  should 
be  in  waiting  at  Folsom.  J.  P.  Robinson,  Superintendent  of  the  Sacramento 
Valley  Railroad,  placed  a  special  train  at  the  service  of  the  committee,  with 
the  freedom  of  the  road  to  ah1  they  should  invite  to  accompany  them. 

"  Horace  Greeley  passed  the  night,  or  such  portion  of  it  as  he  was  allowed  to 
have  to  himself,  at  the  Gary  House,  and  left  Placerville  at  11.20  A.  M.,  in 
company  with  G.  W.  Swan  of  that  city,  in  an  open-front,  two-horse  carriage. 
At  Mud  Springs,  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  of  the  townspeople  and  miners 
had  assembled  to  greet  him,  under  a  banner  stretched  across  the  street.  Gree 
ley  did  not,  however,  leave  his  seat,  but  exchanged  salutations  with  the  citi 
zens  at  the  door  of  the  carriage.  On  the  way  down  the  mountains,  Mr.  Swan's 
lively  and  observant  companion  noticed  with  frequent  exclamations  of  wonder 
the  enterprise  and  labor  evinced  in  mining  operations,  and  the  miners'  appa 
ratus  for  conveying  water  ;  spoke  of  the  barrenness  of  the  hillsides,  but  thought 
it  strange  that  the  fertile  spots  in  the  valleys  should  be  left  unoccupied  by  till 
ers  of  the  soil  after  the  miners  had  denuded  the  hillsides  of  gold  ;  expressed 
great  surprise,  as  all  new-comers  do,  at  the  fine  appearance  of  our  cattle  con 
trasted  with  the  apparent  lean  and  dry  pasturage  ;  thought  the  fruit  in  the 
gardens  by  the  roadsides  looked  astonishingly  thrifty  ;  and  after  some  further 
observations  of  the  same  character,  and  partaking  with  a  good  appetite  of  the 
dinner  served  for  him  and  his  companion  at  Padurah,  the  head  of  the  great 
American  press  sank  quietly  back  in  one  corner  of  the  carriage,  and  was  prone 
to  indulge  in  such  unrefreshing  slumber  as  a  warm  day  over  a  dusty  and  tire 
some  road  can  alone  inspire. 

"  While  the  editor  of  the  New  York  Tribune  slept  hie  friends  were  wide 
awake  in  the  *  City  of  the  Plains.1  At  2.30  P.  M.  the  reception  committee, 
and  about  twenty-five  or  thirty  others  whom  they  had  invited,  stepped  into  a 
special  car,  and,  under  the  convoy  of  Superintendent  Robinson,  were  soon  fly 
ing  on  their  road  to  Folsom.  The  committee  reached  Folsom  in  forty  minutes 
by  the  Superintendent's  wateh,  and  learned,  on  arriving,  that  the  '  man  with  the 
white  coat '  had  not  yet  made  his  appearance.  The  receptionists  strolled  about 
the  interesting  town  of  Folsom,  and,  their  hospitable  ardor  communicating  to 
sundry  of  the  inhabitants,  the  cannon  was  brought  out,  and  soon  a  thundering 
report,  which  must  have  wakened  Greeley  a  mile  distant,  if  he  had  slept  until 
that  time,  announced  that  the  friends  of  the  great  expected  were  ready  to  re 
ceive  him  with  open  arms.  At  a  quarter  to  four,  a  carriage  drawn  by  a  pair 
of  roan-colored  ponies  drove  at  a  pretty  smart  pace  down  the  main  street,  and 
straight  up  to  the  depot.  By  this  time  most  of  the  committee  had  wandered 
off  in  the  vicinity  of  the  bridge,  so  that  when  the  proprietor  of  a  little  old  glazed 
travelling-bag,  marked  '  H.  GREELEY,  154  Nassau  Street,  New  York,  1855,'  a 
very  rusty  and  well-worn  white  coat,  a  still  rustier  and  still  more  worn  and  faded 


464  ACROSS   THE   PLAINS   TO   CALIFORNIA. 

blue-cotton  umbrella,  together  with  a  roll  of  blmikets,  were  deposited  from  the 
carriage,  there  was  no  one  present  of  the  committee  to  take  him  by  the  hand. 
The  crowd  about  the  depot,  however,  closed  in  so  densely  that  Greeley  was 
fain  to  make  for  the  first  open  door  that  presented  itself.  This,  unfortunately, 
happened  to  be  the  bar-room  attached  to  the  ticket-office;  and  here  some  of  the 
committee  found  him,  with  his  back  turned  defiantly  against  the  sturdy  rows 
of  bottles  and  decanters,  talking  informally  with  some  friends  who  had  been 
beforehand ;  and  here  the  committee  seized  their  guest,  and  with  considerable 
trepidation  hurried  him  across  to  the  hotel  over  the  freight  depot,  followed  by 
a  large  and  increasing  crowd.  Greeley  was  escorted  to  an  upper  room,  where 
J.  McClatchy,  on  behalf  of  the  committee,  found  opportunity  to  welcome  him 
in  set  phrase,  in  about  the  following  language :  — 

"'MR.  GREELEY:  This  committee,  chosen  by  the  citizens  of  Sacramento 
without  regard  to  party,  have  waited  upon  you  to  bid  you  welcome  to  the 
capital  of  the  State.  The  people  of  our  city  have  long  looked  upon  you  as 
one  of  the  noblest  friends  of  California.  They  desire  to  show  their  appreci 
ation  of  your  labors  in  its  behalf  by  giving  you  a  cordial  welcome.  Arrange 
ments  have  been  made  in  our  city  to  receive  you  and  make  your  stay  agree 
able,  and  we  are  ready,  at  your  leisure,  to  escort  you  to  the  friends  who  are 
waiting  your  coming.  In  their  name,  and  in  the  name  of  this,  their  commit 
tee,  I  welcome  you  to  our  city.* 

"Mr.  Greeley  replied  very  nearly  as  follows:  — 

" '  I  should  have  been  glad,  if  I  could  have  had  my  choice,  to  have  avoided 
a  formal  reception,  because  it  looks  like  parade,  and  gives  an  idea  of  seeking 
for  glory,  which  is  not  a  part  of  my  plan  in  coming  to  California.  I  shall  be 
happy,  however,  to  go  with  you,  and  to-^iight  I  would  like  to  say  something 
about  the  Pacific  Railroad.  I  am  at  your  service,  gentlemen,  this  evening, 
but  I  've  got  my  business  affairs  to  attend  to  afterward.  I  have  not  yet  seen 
my  letters ;  they  are  waiting  for  me  in  your  city.  I  have  other  places  to  visit, 
and  wish  to  see  all  I  can,  and  meet  all  the  friends  I  can  here  and  elsewhere.' 

"  These  remarks  were  delivered  in  the  peculiar  oif4iand  manner  of  the  great 
Reformer,  and  in  the  high  key  and  slender  and  wavering  tones  which  are  char 
acteristic  of  his  public  speaking.  When  he  had  finished  there  was  a  little 
pause,  as  though  each  of  the  committee  was  cogitating  what  next  was  to  be 
done,  when  Greeley  broke  in  with  the  bluntness  so  often  ascribed  to  him, 
*  Well,  I  'm  ready  to  go  when  you  are.'  0.  C.  Wheeler,  Secretary  of  the  State 
Agricultural  Society,  now  extended  an  invitation  to  him  to  accompany  the 
visiting  committee  on  their  rounds  of  visits  among  the  farms  and  orchards  of 
the  State,  setting  out  next  week ;  which  invitation  Greeley  thought  he  would 
accept,  but  must  take  it  under  consideration.  After  several  persons  had  been 
introduced,  Greeley  was  escorted  back  to  the  depot,  followed  by  'all  Folsom  for 
four  miles  back/  as  one  of  the  crowd  declared.  Near  the  ticket-office,  having 
signified  to  the  committee  that  he  would  like  to  say  something  to  the  people, 
Mr.  Mooney  of  the  Folsom  Express  enjoined  silence,  and  Greeley  suid :  — 

'"FELLOW-CITIZENS:  I  know  very  well  that  occasions  like  this  are  not 
such  as  a  person  should  choose  for  the  purpose  of  making  a  speech,  and  I  do 


THIRTEEN    HOURS    AT    SACRAMENTO.  465 

not  wish  to  be  regarded  as  having  come  among  you  for  speech-making.  I 
have  come  to  your  far-off  land  as  an  American  comes  to  visit  Americans.  I 
don't  have  time  to  read  books,  and  I  want  to  learn  what  I  can  of  the  men  and 
country  I  have  come  to  see  by  practical  observation.  I  want  to  see  the  land 
which,  during  the  last  ten  years,  has  furnished  gold  enough  to  check,  if  it 
could  not  entirely  overcome,  the  tide  of  reverse  following  the  commei'cial  ex 
travagance  of  the  East.  One  of  the  objects  of  my  visit  has  been  to  see  what 
it  is  practicable  to  accomplish  for  the  Pacific  Railroad.  [Cheers.]  I  know 
that  great  difficulties  and  obstacles  lie  in  the  way,  but  I  also  know  that  every 
addition  of  wealth  and  population  on  this  side  lessens  those  difficulties,  —  every 
one  hundred  thousand  souls  you  receive  into  your  State  increases,  not  the  ne 
cessity,  for  that  has  all  along  existed,  but  the  imminence  of  that  necessity,  so 
to  speak.  It  is  a  work  which  must  be  done  in  our  day,  and,  if  we  live  the  or 
dinary  lives  of  men,  we  shall  see  it  accomplished.  Every  wave  of  emigration 
to  your  shores  will  beat  down  an  obstacle.  I  entreat  you  then,  fellow-citizens, 
to  go  on  and  draw  around  you  the  means  for  this  great  fulfilment  of  the  noble 
plan.  Let  us  build  up  an  American  Republic,  not  as  now,  the  two  sides  of  a 
great  desert,  but  let  us  make  it  a  concentrated  and  harmonious  whole.  Those 
who  come  to  join  you  here  should  not  pursue  the  journey  as  now,  wearily, 
sadly,  and  by  slow  degrees,  over  these  great  plains.  We  must  work  with  all 
our  energies  for  the  prosperity  of  the  Pacific  Railroad.  [Cheers.]  I  thank 
you  for  the  manner  in  which  you  have  welcomed  me,  and  I  shall  return  home 
to  labor  with  increased  vigor  for  the  road  and  for  the  success  of  the  Union.' 

"  This  short  speech  was  greeted  with  hearty  applause  by  over  one  hundred 
and  fifty  persons,  who  had  assembled  to  catch  a  sight  of  the  flaxen  locks  and 
benevolent  face  of  Horace  Greeley.  At  its  close  he  was  conducted  into  the 
car,  and  the  committee  and  their  guest  were  soon  on  their  way  to  this  city  at 
a  rattling  pace. 

"  The  committee  of  arrangements  had  prepared  seven  carriages  to  be  in 
waiting  at  the  depot,  on  the  arrival  of  the  car  containing  their  guest.  A  tele 
graphic  despatch  announced  the  moment  of  his  departure  from  Folsom.  In 
less  time  than  it  had  taken  to  go  out,  the  whistle  was  heard  announcing  that 
the  train  was  coming  down  the  levee.  As  the  car  approached  the  city,  the 
committee,  who  had  up  to  this  time  been  acting  without  much  concert  or  reg 
ularity,  found  a  rare  subject  for  a  concurrence  of  speech,  at  least,  in  Greeley's 
old  white  coat  and  umbrella.  Some  of  the  ragged  parts  of  the  coat  were  con 
verted  into  little  mementos  by  the  more  enterprising  members  of  the  com 
mittee.  It  was  about  five  o'clock  when  the  train  reached  the  depot.  Greeley 
was  handed  into  a  carriage,  accompanied  by  the  committee  distributed  through 
the  other  vehicles,  and  was  driven  to  the  St.  George  Hotel,  where  rooms  have 
been  in  keeping  for  him  several  days.  In  the  parlor  of  this  hotel  a  large  crowd 
soon  began  to  gather,  and  H.  L.  Nichols,  President  of  the  Board  of  Supervisors, 
making  his  appearance,  with  other  members  of  the  general  committee,  was 
introduced  to  their  guest  by  D.  Meeker.  Dr.  Nichols  then  made  the  follow 
ing  address :  — 

"  *  MR.  GREELEY  :  It  is  with  pleasure,  sir,  that,  on  behalf  of  the  citizens  of 
20*  DD 


4GG  ACROSS    THE    PLAINS    TO    CALIFORNIA. 

Sacramento,  I  welcome  you  to  our  city.  It  is  probable  that  but  few  of  us  have 
had  the  honor  of  your  personal  acquaintance ;  but,  sir,  you  are  not  unknown 
to  us.  You  are  known  to  us  as  you  are  known  to  the  world  at  large;  but  mare 
particularly  are  you  known  to  us  as  the  true  friend  of  California,  and  as  sucli 
we  are  ever  proud  to  acknowledge  you.  We  thank  you  that  you  have  taken 
sufficient  interest  in  our  welfare  to  leave  your  home  in  the  great  metropolis  of 
the  East  and  wend  your  way  across  the  vast  plains  and  rugged  mountains  that 
separate  us,  to  visit  us  in  our  Western  home.  We  trust  that,  while  you  travel 
through  our  State,  you  may  not  be  disappointed  with  the  progress  which  our 
citizens  have  made  during  the  short  time  allowed  them.  Perhaps  you  may  be 
aware,  sir,  that  the  place  which  you  now  behold  as  the  city  of  Sacramento 
was  but  little  more  than  ten  years  ago  a  vast  plain,  with  here  and  there  a  few 
cloth  tents,  which  were  occupied  by  the  hardy  pioneers  of  the  State.  We  to 
day  in  size  claim  to  be  the  second  city  on  the  Pacific  coast;  our  inhabitants 
number  not  less  than  15,000 ;  we  have  a  property  valuation  of  nearly  $  10,000,000 ; 
we  have  erected  comfortable  dwellings  for  our  families,  and  houses  for  places 
of  business ;  reared  numerous  and  ample  churches  dedicated  to  the  worship  of 
Almighty  God,  and  established  schools  for  the  education  of  our  children,  —  in 
fact,  we  enjoy  most  of  the  blessings  that  our  sister  cities  in  the  East  may  lay 
claim  to.  The  hospitalities  of  this  our  city  I  extend  to  you,  and  trust  that 
during  your  sojourn  here  we  may  be  enabled  to  make  your  stay  pleasant  and 
agreeable,  so  that  when  you  return  to  your  home  in  the  East,  and  may  have 
occasion  to  refer  in  memory  to  the  few  days  spent  with  us,  your  feelings  may 
be  rather  of  pleasure  than  of  regret.  Now,  sir,  permit  me  again,  in  my  own 
behalf  and  in  behalf  of  my  fellow-citizens,  to  bid  you  a  hearty  and  cordial 
welcome  to  the  City  of  the  Plains,  —  the  capital  city  of  the  Golden  State.' 

"  The  address  was  followed  by  a  round  of  applause,  after  which  Mr.  Greeley 
spoke  as  follows :  — 

" '  MR.  CHAIRMAN  :  It  was  observed  by  a  great  Southern  statesman  that  the 
American  Revolution  was  not  that  unnatural  or  chance  struggle,  not  that 
abnormal  thing  which  we  were  disposed  to  think  it.  The  Colony  that 
stepped  ashore  on  Plymouth  Rock  were  no  longer  a  Colony,  but  a  State,  from 
that  hour.  It  is  thus  that  American  genius  and  American  cultivation  go  be 
fore,  and  improvise  the  arts  and  a  nation's  polity.  Ten  years  ago  you  were 
here  familiar  with  hangings  and  mob  law.  I  was  in  London,  and  I  well  re 
member  the  remark  of  a  British  nobleman,  that  your  course  was  the  proper 
working  out  of  the  old  English  law.  Men  must  obey  the  voice  of  the  commun 
ity,  which  is  the  law,  in  all  cases ;  and,  if  they  do  not,  they  must  suffer  the 
penalty  of  their  offending  equally  in  orderly  as  well  as  in  disorderly  states  of 
government.  The  progress  you  have  made  in  carrying  out  your  principles  of 
government  successfully  is  your  highest  triumph.  Better  than  your  gold  or 
your  thrift  is  the  fact  that  here  is  a  population,  made  up  of  New-Englanders, 
men  of  the  South,  foreign-born,  natives  of  China  and  almost  every  part  of  the 
globe,  which  gradually,  through  periods  of  disorder,  you  have  reduced  to  the 
best  forms  of  enlightenment,  crystallizing  them,  so  to  speak,  in  a  perfect  and 
durable  shape.  I  do  think  this  is  better  than  gold,  for  that  the  savages  can  dig. 


COMMENTS    OF    THE    "SACRAMENTO    UXION."  4G7 

Your  schools,  your  churches,  and  your  obedience  to  the  laws  are  your  greatest 
wealth.  And  the  secret  of  your  success  is,  that  labor  here  meets  its  just  re 
ward.  California  labor  rejoices  in  that  assurance.  I  heard  them  talk  of  the 
'want  of  capital'  in  California.  I  do  not  think  capital  is  necessary.  When 
people  want  labor,  and  can  get  it,  it  is  better  than  capital.  [Applause.]  Your 
gold  product  gives  assurance  that  the  labor  will  always  find  this  reward.  At 
the  same  time  your  gold  gives  an  impulse  to  civilization,  and  I  think  it  is  safe 
to  promise  that  your  State  will  increase  until  it  becomes  the  most  populous  in 
the  Union.  [Applause.]  I  came  this  long  way  not  to  see  California  alone.  I 
wanted  to  see  those  interesting  spaces  where  the  most  primitive  forms  of  life 
can  be  viewed  and  contrasted  within  the  borders  of  our  own  Republic  with  the 
highest  civilization.  I  wish  to  study  men  as  I  can  see  them  in  their  cabins, 
and  to  improve  by  observation  what  I  have  been  denied  acquiring  through 
books  and  the  essays  of  wise  men.  I  would  gladly  have  come  to  your  city  as 
any  stranger,  satisfied  with  meeting  here  and  there  an  old  acquaintance,  and 
so  passed  along  without  formality  and  public  attention.  I  was  aware  that  I 
knew  some  among  you,  but  I  had  no  idea  of  meeting  so  many  old  friends.  And 
though  I  would  have  been  glad  to  avoid  a  reception,  still  I  cannot  refuse  to 
meet  you  in  such  a  way  as  you  think  proper.  Gentlemen,  I  thank  you  for 
your  kindness.  I  have  done.'  [Applause.] 

"  A  large  number  of  citizens,  at  the  conclusion  of  his  speech,  were  introduced 
to  Mr.  Greeley.  All  who  have  known  him  in  the  East  remark  that  he  has 
never  appeared  so  hearty  and  well  as  at  present.  He  looked  somewhat  jaded 
and  dusty  from  his  long  ride,  but  showed  no  signs  of  weariness.  The  crowd 
left  him  at  5£,  and  he  was  not  disturbed  until  he  was  waited  upon  to  accom 
pany  a  portion  of  the  committee  to  a  very  handsome  dinner.  About  twenty 
guests  sat  down  at  6£,  and,  after  dispatching  the  meal  in  a  business-like  way, 
Greeley  was  permitted  to  retire,  and  make  ready  for  the  evening's  address. 
From  the  rapidity  with  which  this  was  done,  it  is  fair  to  presume  that  he  had 
only  to  get  his  hat.  A  few  minutes  after  eight  he  was  on  his  way  to  Benton's 
Church."  At  the  church  he  delivered  a  very  able  and  telling  speech  upon  the 
"  Pacific  Railroad." 

COMMENTS  OF  THE  "  SACRAMENTO  UNION." 

"  Greeley  has  come  and  gone.  He  was  here  a  little  short  of  thirteen  hours, 
during  which  time  he  held  an  informal  levee,  made  a  reception  speech,  partook 
of  a  special  dinner,  delivered  an  address,  saw  something  of  the  city,  opened 
and  read  his  letters,  partly  arranged  the  programme  of  his  journey  through  the 
State,  and  took  a  sufficient  night's  rest  to  enable  him  to  be  up  at  five  the  next 
morning,  and  take  his  seat  in  the  stage  which  left  the  next  hour  for  Grass  Val 
ley,  a  journey  of  between  sixty  and  seventy  miles  over  a  wearisome  mountain 
road.  This  despatch  is  characteristic  of  the  man.  His  prompt,  business-like 
method,  and  his  skill  in  crowding  events  into  a  narrow  compass,  not  less  than 
his  facility  of  compressing  facts  and  arguments  in  a  short,  off-hand  speech, 
would  commend  him  to  popular  admiration  in  this  country,  if  he  had  no  other 
qualities  to  support  his  fame.  His  brief  personal  intercourse  with  our  citizens 


468  ACROSS    THE   PLAINS    TO    CALIFORNIA. 

while  here,  and  his  practical  suggestions  on  the  Pacific  Kailroad,  accompanied 
by  the  earnest  and  forcible  manner  of  their  delivery,  have  made  a  favorable 
impression  in  the  community.  At  Folsom,  where  he  was  received  by  the 
committee  sent  from  this  city,  and  where  he  volunteered  a  short  address,  the 
crowd  were  at  first  sensibly  moved  to  attempt  a  little  good-humored  joking  at 
the  quaint  personal  appearance  of  the  philosopher  and  his  odd  style  of  oratory, 
but  before  he  had  finished  his  second  or  third  sentence,  their  attention  was 
very  earnestly  on  the  speaker,  and  he  was  interrupted  as  well  as  compli 
mented  at  the  close,  by  hearty  cheering.  This  good  opinion  appears  to  ex 
tend  to  all  classes,  if  we  except  the  ultra  Southern  politicians;  and  a  general 
wish  is  felt  to  hear  further  from  this  editor,  who  writes  for,  and  is  believed  by 
220,000  '  subscribers,'  and  who  has  taken  the  field  in  person  and  in  our  midst, 
a  Peter  the  Hermit  in  enthusiasm  for  the  Pacific  Railroad.  While  this  l  abo 
lition  editor,'  this  '  wretched  fanatic,'  according  to  that  moderate  Lecompton 
organ,  the  *  San  Francisco  Herald,'  is  appealing  to  our  national  sympathies  on 
this  railroad  question,  declaring  that  it  is  not  a  question  of  localities ;  that, 
4  whether  it  runs  to  New  York,  or  to  San  Antonio,  Texas  (the  favorite  route  of 
the  '  San  Francisco  Herald'),  it  would  be  all  the  same,'  the  contrast  presented  by 
our  Democratic  Senator  and  Congressmen  who  are  now  addressing  the  people 
is  peculiarly  striking.  The  one,  strong  in  honest  purpose,  and  full  of  nervous 
energy,  pressing  the  need  of  this  road,  and  the  duty  of  our  citizens  toward  the 
government ;  the  others  not  deigning  to  give  even  an  explanation  of  their  views 
and  the  policy  of  thousands  of  our  countrymen  in  the  East.  Neither  the 
views  nor  the  personal  influence  of  our  Lecompton  delegates  to  the  next  Con 
gress  will  be  of  any  practical  benefit  to  the  road,  admitting  (which  we  do  not) 
that  they  are  its  sincere  and  disinterested  friends. 

"  The  notable  circumstance  that  the  editor  of  the  Tribune  is  endeavoring  to 
nrouse  the  country  in  behalf  of  a  Pacific  Railroad  immediately  on  his  arrival 
nt  the  end  of  his  long  journey,  almost  before  he  has  brushed  the  dust  of  travel 
from  his  garments,  will  carry  greater  weight  with  it  in  the  East  than  all  Gwin 
has  ever  said,  or  can  say,  hi  Congress.  It  will  be  personal  testimony  in  favor 
of  the  enterprise  of  the  strongest  kind." 

VISIT   TO   THE   YO   SEMITE   VALLEY. 

"  The  night  was  clear  and  bright,  as  all  summer  nights  in  this 
region  are ;  the  atmosphere  cool,  but  not  really  cold ;  the  moon  had 
risen  before  seven  o'clock,  and  was  shedding  so  much  light  as  to 
bother  us  in  our  forest  path,  where  the  shadow  of  a  standing  pine 
looked  exceedingly  like  the  substance  of  a  fallen  one,  and  many 
semblances  were  unreal  and  misleading.  The  safest  course  was  to 
give  your  horse  a  full  rein,  and  trust  to  his  sagacity  or  self-love  for 
keeping  the1  trail.  As  we  descended  by  zigzags  the  north  face  of 
the  all  but  perpendicular  mountain,  our  moonlight  soon  left  us,  or 
was  present  only  by  reflection  from  the  opposite  cliff.  Soon  the 


VISIT   TO    THE   YO    SEMITE   VALLEY.  469 

trail  became  at  once  so  steep,  so  rough,  and  so  tortuous,  that  we 
all  dismounted;  but  my  attempt  at  walking  proved  a  miserable 
failure.  I  had  been  riding  with  a  bad  Mexican  stirrup,  which 
barely  admitted  the  toes  of  my  left  foot,  and  continual  pressure  on 
these  had  sprained  and  swelled  them  so  that  walking  was  positive 
torture.  I  persisted  in  the  attempt  till  my  companions  insisted  on 
my  remounting,  and  thus  floundering  slowly  to  the  bottom.  By 
steady  effort  we  descended  the  three  miles  (4,000  feet  perpendicu 
lar)  in  two  hours,  and  stood  at  midnight  by  the  rushing,  roaring 
waters  of  the  Mercede. 

"That  first  full,  deliberate  gaze  up  the  opposite  height!  can  I 
ever  forget  it  ?  The  valley  is  here  scarely  half  a  mile  wide,  while 
its  northern  wall  of  mainly  naked,  perpendicular  granite  is  at  least 
4,000  feet  high,  probably  more.  But  the  modicum  of  moonlight 
that  fell  into  this  awful  gorge  gave  to  that  precipice  a  vagueness 
of  outline,  an  indefinite  vastness,  a  ghostly  and  weird  spirituality. 
Had  the  mountain  spoken  to  me  in  audible  voice,  or  begun  to  lean 
over  with  the  purpose  of  burying  me  beneath  its  crushing  mass,  I 
should  hardly  have  been  surprised.  Its  whiteness,  thrown  into 
bold  relief  by  the  patches  of  trees  or  shrubs  which  fringed  or 
flecked  it  wherever  a  few  handfuls  of  its  moss,  slowly  decomposed 
to  earth,  could  contrive  to  hold  on,  continually  suggested  the  pres 
ence  of' snow,  which  suggestion,  with  difficulty  refuted,  was  at 
once  renewed.  And  looking  up  the  valley,  we  saw  just  such 
mountain  precipices,  barely  separated  by  intervening  water-courses 
(mainly  dry  at  this  season)  of  inconsiderable  depth,  and  only  re 
ceding  sufficiently  to  make  room  for  a  very  narrow  meadow  enclos 
ing  the  river,  to  the  farthest  limit  of  vision. 

"  We  discussed  the  propriety  of  camping  directly  at  the  foot  of 
the  pass,  but  decided  against  it,  because  of  the  inadequacy  of  the 
grass  at  this  point  for  our  tired,  hungry  beasts,  and  resolved  to  push 
on  to  the  nearest  of  the  two  houses  in  the  valley,  which  was  said 
to  be  four  miles  distant.  To  my  dying  day  I  shall  remember  that 
weary,  interminable  ride  up  the  valley.  We  had  been  on  foot  since 
daylight ;  it  was  now  past  midnight ;  all  were  nearly  used  up,  and 
I  in  torture  from  over  eleven  hours'  steady  riding  on  the  hardest 
trotting  horse  in  America.  Yet  we  pressed  on  and  on,  through 
clumps  of  trees,  and  bits  of  forest,  and  patches  of  meadow,  and  over 
hillocks  of  mountain  debris,  mainly  granite  boulders  of  every  size, 


470  ACROSS    THE    PLAINS    TO    CALIFORNIA. 

often  nearly  as  round  as  cannon-balls,  forming  all  but  perpendicular 
banks  to  the  capricious  torrent  that  brought  them  hither,  —  those 
stupendous  precipices  on  either  side  glaring  down  upon  us  all  the 
while.  How  many  times  our  heavy  eyes  —  I  mean  those  of  my 
San  Francisco  friend  and  my  own  —  were  lighted  up  by  visions  of 
that  intensely  desired  cabin,  visions  which  seemed  distinct  and  un 
mistakable,  but  which,  alas !  a  nearer  view  proved  to  be  made  up 
of  moonlight  and  shadow,  rock  and  tree,  into  which  they  faded 
one  after  another.  It  seemed  at  length  that  we  should  never  reach 
the  cabin,  and  my  wavering  mind  recalled  elfish  German  stories  of 
the  wild  huntsman,  and  of  men  who,  having  accepted  invitations  to 
a  midnight  chase,  found  on  their  return  that  said  chase  had  been 
prolonged  till  all  their  relatives  and  friends  were  dead,  and  no  one 
could  be  induced  to  recognize  or  recollect  them.  Gladly  could  I 
have  thrown  myself  recklessly  from  the  saddle  and  lain  where  I 
fell,  till  morning,  but  this  would  never  answer,  and  we  kept  stead 
ily  on : 

'  Time  and  the  hour  wear  out  the  longest  day.' 

"  At  length  the  real  cabin  —  one  made  of  posts  and  beams  and 
whipsawed  boards,  instead  of  rock  and  shadow  and  moonshine  — 
was  reached,  and  we  all  eagerly  dismounted,  turning  out  our  weary 
steeds  into  abundant  grass,  and  stirring  up  the  astonished  landlord, 
who  had  never  before  received  guests  at  that  unseemly  hour.  (It 
was  after  1  A.  M.)  He  made  us  welcome,  however,  to  his  best 
accommodations,  which  would  have  found  us  lenient  critics  even 
had  they  been  worse,  and  I  crept  into  my  rude  but  clean  bed  so 
soon  as  possible,  while  the  rest  awaited  the  preparation  of  some  re 
freshment  for  the  inner  man.  There  was  never  a  dainty  that  could 
have  tempted  me  to  eat  at  that  hour.  I  am  told  that  none  ever 
before  travelled  from  Bear  Valley  to  the  Yo  Semite  in  one  day,  —  I 
am  confident  no  greenhorns  ever  did.  The  distance  can  hardly 
exceed  thirty  miles  by  an  air  line ;  but  only  a  bird  could  traverse 
that  line ;  while,  by  way  of  Mariposa  and  the  South  Fork,  it  must 
be  fully  sixty  miles,  with  a  rise  and  fall  of  not  less  than  20,000  feet. 

"  The  Fall  of  the  Yo  Semite,  so  called,  is  a  humbug.  It  is  not  the 
Mercede  River  that  makes  this  fall,  but  a  mere  tributary  trout-brook, 
which  pitches  in  from  the  north  by  a  barely  once  broken  descent 
of  2,600  feet,  while  the  Mercede  enters  the  valley  at  its  eastern  ex 
tremity,  over  falls  of  GOO  and  250  feet.  But  a  river  thrice  as  large 


VISIT    TO    THE    YO    SEMITE    VALLEY.  471 

as  the  Mercede  at  this  season  would  be  utterly  dwarfed  by  all  the 
other  accessories  of  this  prodigious  chasm.  Only  a  Mississippi  or  a 
Niagara  could  be  adequate  to  their  exactions.  I  readily  concede 
that  a  hundred  times  the  present  amount  of  water  may  roll  down 
the  Yo  Semite  fall  in  the  months  of  May  and  June,  when  the  snows 
are  melting  from  the  central  ranges  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  which 
bound  this  abyss  on  the  east;  but  this  would  not  add  a  fraction  to 
the  wonder  of  this  vivid  exemplification  of  the  Divine  power  and 
majesty.  At  present,  the  little  stream  that  leaps  down  the  Yo 
Semite  and  is  all  but  shattered  to  mist  by  the  amazing  descent,  looks 
more  like  a  tape-line  let  down  from  the  cloud-capped  height  to 
measure  the  depth  of  the  abyss.  The  Yo  Semite  Valley  (or  gorge) 
is  the  most  unique  and  majestic  of  Nature's  marvels,  but  the  Yo 
Semite  Fall  is  of  little  account.  Were  it  absent,  the  valley  would 
not  be  perceptibly  less  worthy  of  a  fatiguing  visit. 

"  We  traversed  the  valley  from  end  to  end  next  day,  but  an  ac 
cumulation  of  details  on  such  a  subject  only  serve  to  confuse  and 
blunt  the  observer's  powers  of  perception  and  appreciation.  Per 
haps  the  visitor  who  should  be  content  with  a  long  look  into  the 
abyss  from  the  most  convenient  height,  without  braving  the  toil  of 
a  descent,  would  be  wiser  than  all  of  us ;  and  yet  that  first  glance 
upward  from  the  foot  will  long  haunt  me  as  more  impressive  than 
any  look  downward  from  the  summit  could  be. 

"I  shall  not  multiply  details  nor  waste  paper  in  noting  all  the 
foolish  names  which  foolish  people  have  given  to  different  peaks  or 
turrets.  Just  think  of  two  giant  stone  towers  or  pillars,  which  rise 
a  thousand  feet  above  the  towering  cliff  which  forms  their  base, 
being  styled  '  The  Two  Sisters ! '  Could  anything  be  more  mala 
droit  and  lackadaisical  ?  '  The  Dome '  is  a  high,  round,  naked  peak, 
which  rises  between  the  Mercede  and  its  little  tributary  from  the 
inmost  recesses  of  the  Sierra  Nevada  already  instanced,  and  which 
towers  to  an  altitude  of  over  five  thousand  feet  above  the  waters 
at  its  base.  Picture  to  yourself  a  perpendicular  wall  of  bare  granite 
nearly  or  quite  one  mile  high !  Yet  there  are  some  dozen  or  score 
of  peaks  in  all,  ranging  from  three  thousand  to  five  thousand  feet 
above  the  valley,  and  a  biscuit  tossed  from  any  of  them  would  strike 
very  near  its  base,  and  its  fragments  go  bounding  and  falling  still 
farther.  I  certainly  miss  here  the  glaciers  of  Chamouni;  but  I 
know  no  single  wonder  of  Nature  on  earth  which  can  claim  a  su- 


472  ACROSS    THE   PLAINS    TO    CALIFORNIA. 

periority  over  the  Yo  Semite.  Just  dream  yourself  for  one  hour 
in  a  chasm  nearly  ten  miles  long,  with  egress  for  birds  and  water 
out  at  either  extremity,  and  none  elsewhere  save  at  three  points, 
up  the  face  of  precipices  from  three  thousand  to  four  thousand  feet 
high,  the  chasm  scarcely  more  than  a  mile  wide  at  any  point  and 
tapering  to  a  mere  gorge  or  canon  at  either  end,  with  walls  of 
mainly  naked  and  perpendicular  white  granite  from  three  thousand 
to  live  thousand  feet  high,  so  that  looking  up  to  the  sky  from  it  is 
like  looking  out  of  an  unfathomable  profound,  and  you  will  have 
some  conception  of  the  Yo  Semite. 

"We  dined  at  two  o'clock,  and  then  rode  leisurely  down  the  val 
ley,  gazing  by  daylight  at  the  wonders  we  had  previously  passed  in 
the  night.  The  spectacle  was  immense,  but  I  still  think  the  moon 
light  view  the  more  impressive." 

MR.    GREELEY   AT   SAN   FRANCISCO. 

At  the  chief  city  of  California  the  editor  of  the  Tribune  was 
again  the  guest  of  the  people.  The  "  Bulletin  "  thus  described  his 
appearance  at  a  public  meeting. 

"  The  Grand  Pacific  Railroad  mass  meeting,  which  took  place  on  the  evening 
of  17th  August,  in  front  of  the  Oriental,  on  the  occasion  of  the  public  appear 
ance  in  San  Francisco  of  the  Hon.  Horace  Greeley,  was  an  imposing  demon 
stration,  and  in  all  respects  a  decided  success.  By  7£  o'clock  the  people  had 
collected  in  vast  numbers,  and  the  plaza  and  street  in  front  of  the  hotel  were 
crowded.  There  must  have  been,  at  a  fair  computation,  five  thousand  people 
present,  and  all  manifested  much  interest  in  the  great  object  for  which  the 
meeting  was  called,  and  in  the  man  who  was  to  address  them. 

"  The  Oriental  Hotel  was  brilliantly  illuminated  for  the  occasion.  Between 
the  pillars  of  the  veranda  were  hung  many  Japanese  lanterns,  and  the  balus 
trades  were  filled  with  lamps.  As  it  was  known  many  ladies  would  be  pres 
ent,  seats  were  placed  on  the  balcony  for  them  ;  and  long  before  the  speaking 
commenced,  these  and  the  windows  and  rooms  opening  upon  them  were  filled. 
Among  the  ladies  of  the  balcony,  A.  J.  King,  the  stock-broker,  happened  to 
be  espied  by  the  crowd,  and  loud  cries  of  '  Put  him  out,'  '  How 's  your  toe- 
nails,'  and  other  such  expressions  were  heard,  and  for  some  time  the  audience 
was  very  boisterous  at  the  notorious  broker's  expense.  This,  however,  was 
before  the  meeting  organized. 

"  At  8  o'clock  Ira  P.  Rankin  stepped  forward  upon  the  platform  and  nomi 
nated  a  president  and  officers  of  the  meeting. 

"  As  soon  as  the  meeting  was  organized,  Mr.  Greeley  made  his  appearance 
upon  the  stand  which  had  been  erected  in  front  of  the  hotel,  and  was  raised 
about  six  feet  above  the  street.  His  appearance  was  greeted  with  prolonged 


MR.  GREELEY  AT  SAN  FRANCISCO.  473 

cheers.  Colonel  Crockett  stepped  forward  for  the  purpose  of  introducing  the 
speaker  ;  but  the  crowd  was  so  anxious  to  see  and  hear  Mr.  Greeley,  that 
for  a  few  minutes  he  could  not  be  heard.  The  more  distant  portions  of  the 
assembly  cried,  *  We  cannot  see  Mr.  Greeley,'  '  Take  the  balcony,'  '  We  want 
to  see  him.'  Colonel  Crockett  replied  that  Mr.  Greeley  protested  that  he 
could  not  be  heard  from  the  balcony.  The  crowd  seemed  determined  that 
they  would  see  the  speaker,  and  hurrahed  and  vociferated  until  the  president 
stated  that  Mr.  Greeley  would  compromise  by  standing  on  the  table.  At  this 
proposition  there  was  great  applause,  and  order  being  restored,  after  a  few 
words  of  introduction  by  the  president  of  the  meeting,  Mr.  Greeley  mounted 
the  table  and  stood  up  before  the  people,  at  which  there  were  again  heaHy 
and  repeated  cheers.  Several  firemen's  torches  were  so  disposed  on  the  stand 
as  to  throw  their  light  upon  him. 

"  The  personal  appearance  of  Mr.  Greeley  is  familiar  to  many  of  our  read 
ers.  He  is  above  the  medium  height,  rather  thin,  and  has  a  slight  stoop.  His 
head  is  bald,  with  the  exception  of  light  flaxen  locks  at  the  sides  and  back. 
Though  nearly  fifty  years  of  age,  there  are  no  wrinkles  in  his  face  ;  on  the 
contrary,  his  features,  except  for  his  baldness,  would  indicate  quite  a  young 
man.  There  is  a  peculiar  brightness  in  his  eyes,  and  the  general  expression 
of  his  face  is  mildness  and  benignity.  His  dress,  last  evening,  after  drawing 
off  his  drab  overcoat  (from  which  the  mountaineers  cut  off  all  the  buttons), 
was  plain  black  with  a  light  neckcloth.  The  famous  white  hat  had  been 
exchanged  for  one  of  dun-colored  wool.  His  late  journey  across  the  plains, 
although  it  fatigued  him  much,  has  made  him  weigh  more  than  ordinarily, 
and  has  given  him  a  fresh  and  hale  appearance." 

The  speech  was  eminently  successful.  "With  his  last  word," 
said  the  "Bulletin,"  Mr.  Greeley  "turned  to  descend  the  table  upon 
which  he  had  been  standing,  while  the  crowd  cheered  and  hurrahed 
to  the  extent  of  their  lungs.  He  had  spoken  for  very  nearly  an 
hour,  in  a  remarkably  clear,  correct,  and  agreeable  tone  of  voice. 
In  many  parts  of  his  discourse,  and  particularly  toward  the  close, 
he  was  eloquent,  and  made  the  most  happy  impression  upon  the 
audience.  Indeed,  he  exceeded  the  anticipations  of  those  who 
were  well  acquainted  with  his  abilities  as  a  public  speaker." 

He  delivered  also  a  remarkably  excellent  address  before  the 
"  Mechanics'  Institute "  of  San  Francisco.  To  the  pupils  of  the 
High  School,  and  to  those  of  one  of  the  grammar  schools  he  ad 
dressed  a  few  wise  and  impressive  words. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  overestimate  the  happy  influence  of  Mr. 
Greeley's  visit  upon  the  forming  character  of  California.  He  gave 
an  impulse  to  all  good  tendencies,  and  strengthened  the  position  of 
every  man  who  was  in  harmony  with  them.  "Remember,  my 


474  ACROSS    THE    PLAINS    TO    CALIFORNIA. 

friends,"  said  he  at  the" close  of  an  agricultural  address,  "remember 
that  the  end  of  all  true  agriculture,  as  well  as  of  effort  in  other  di 
rections,  is  the  growth  and  perfection  of  the  human  race.  Vain  is 
all  other  progress  unless  the  human  race  progresses  in  knowledge, 
in  industry,  in  temperance,  and  in  virtue;  and  when  this  end  is  at 
tained,  no  other  need  be  despaired  of.  Let  us  remember  this,  and. 
in  all  our  fairs,  in  our  festivals,  in  our  gatherings,  ask :  '  Have  the 
people  around  us  grown  in  knowledge?  Are  our  schools  better, 
our  people  better  ^educated,  more  intelligent,  more  virtuous  than 
they  were  thirty  or  ten  years  ago  ? '  If  they  are,  we  may  rejoice 
and  feel  confident  that  agriculture  and  all  other  useful  arts  will  go 
forward  hand  in  hand." 

To  the  Mechanics'  Institute  of  San  Francisco  he  said :. — 
"  The  new  idea  of  our  time  is  founded  upon  a  better  understand 
ing  of  the  law  of  God  and  humanity.  It  recognizes  all  useful  labor 
as  essentially  laudable  and  honorable,  —  the  greater  honor  where 
there  is  the  greater  proficiency.  The  digger  who  makes  the  thou 
sandth  part  of  a  canal  is  not  of  honor  equal  to  the  scientific  engi 
neer  who  fully  accomplishes  the  work  of  its  construction.  More 
honor  with  greater  intelligence,  but  honor  to  each  in  his  degree, 
but  the  larger  honor  is  due  to  him  who  accomplishes  the  greater 
result.  Simply  manual  labor  can  never  achieve  the  highest  re 
ward,  nor  command  the  greatest  regard.  Hand  and  head  must 
work  together.  To  accomplish  great  results  the  laborer  must  be  in 
telligent  and  educated.  In  this  country,  the  price  of  labor  is  com 
paratively  high,  and  yet  it  is  a  question  whether  it  is  not,  on  the 
whole,  cheaper  in  the  end  than  elsewhere.  Nicholas  Biddle,  and 
other  distinguished  thinkers  upon  the  subject,  asserted  that  Ameri 
can  labor  at  a  higher  price  was  cheaper  than  the  labor  of  Spain  or 
most  other  countries  at  almost  nominal  rates.  In  building  the  bed 
of  a  railroad,  for  instance,  it  is  found  cheaper  with  American  labor, 
or  labor  under  their  guidance  and  direction,  than  with  any  other. 
This  is  proved  by  the  fact  that  railroads  can  be  built  in  America  at 
one  sixth  part  of  the  cost  of  constructing  them  in  Italy,  and  I  be 
lieve,  in  Ireland  also.  Labor,  as  it  becomes  better  educated,  will 
also  become  more  effective,  and  when  it  receives  its  double  reward, 
it  will  be  more  profitable." 

Nor  did  he  omit,  in  view  of  the  coming  struggle  in  politics,  to 
expound  the  principles  of  the  Republican  party,  and  lay  bare  the 


MR.  GREELEY  AT  SAN  FRANCISCO.  475 

designs  of  the  rulers  of  the  South.  His  political  addresses  added  to 
the  strength  of  the  Republicans  in  California,  and  made  their  tri 
umph  easier. 

Returning  homeward  by  way  of  Panama,  Mr.  Greeley  reached 
New  York  on  the  28th  of  September,  after  an  absence  of  nearly 
five  months. 


CHAPTER    XXXII. 

HORACE  GREELEY  AT  THE    CHICAGO   CONVENTION 
OF  1860. 

Mr.  Greeley's  reasons  for  opposing  Mr.  Seward — Mr.  Raymond's  accusation — The  private 
letter  to  Mr.  Seward — The  comments  of  Thurlow  Weed — The  three-cent  stamp  corre 
spondence—Mr.  Qreeley  a  candidate  for  the  Senate— He  declines  a  seat  in  Mr.  Lincoln's 
Tabernacle. 

ON  the  16th  of  May,  I860,  a  National  Convention  of  the  Repub 
lican  party  met  at  Chicago  for  the  purpose  of  nominating  candidates 
for  the  Presidency  and  Vice-Presidency.  Mr.  Greeley  attended  the 
Convention  as  a  delegate  from  Oregon.  The  general  expectation 
was  that  Mr.  Seward  would  receive  the  nomination  for  the  first 
office.  He  was  set  aside,  however,  and  Abraham  Lincoln  became 
the  candidate  of  the  party.  The  person  chiefly  instrumental  in 
frustrating  the  hopes  of  Mr.  Seward's  friends  was  the  editor  of  the 
Tribune.  At  least  we  may  say,  with  the  utmost  confidence,  that, 
had  Mr.  G-reeley,  in  his  newspaper  and  at  Chicago,  given  a  hearty 
support  to  Mr.  Seward,  that  gentleman  would  have  been  nomi 
nated.  Mr.  Greeley's  reasons  for  his  course  on  this  memorable 
occasion  were  stated  by  himself  as  follows :  — 

"  My  mind  had  been  long  before  deliberately  made  up  that  the 
nomination  of  Governor  Seward  for  President  was  unadvisable 
and  unsafe ;  yet  I  had  resolved  to  avoid  this  Convention  for  obvi 
ous  reasons.  But  when,  some  four  or  five  weeks  since,  I  received 
letters  from  Oregon,  apprising  me  that,  of  the  six  delegates  ap 
pointed  and  fully  expecting  to  attend  from  that  State,  but  two 
would  be  able  to  do  so,  on  account  of  the  very  brief  notice  they 
had  of  the  change  of  time  of  holding  the  Convention,  and  that  Mr. 
Leander  Holmes,  one  of  those  who  had  been  appointed,  and  clothed 
with  full  power  of  substitution,  had  appointed  and  requested  me 
to  act  in  his  stead,  I  did  not  feel  at  liberty  to  refuse  the  duty  thus 
imposed  on  me.  Of  the  four  letters  that  simultaneously  reached 
me,  —  one  from  Mr.  Holmes,  another  from  Mr.  Corbitt,  chairman 
of  the  Republican  State  Committee,  a  third  from  the  editor  of  a  lead 
ing  Republican  journal,  and  the  fourth  from  an  eminent  ex-editor, 


GREELEY   AT    THE    CHICAGO    CONVENTION   OF    1860.  477 

—  at  least  three  indicated  Judge  Bates  as  the  decided  choice  of 
Oregon  for  President,  and  the  man  who  would  be  most  likely  to 
carry  it,  —  a  very  natural  preference,  since  a  large  proportion  of 
the  people  of  Oregon  emigrated  from  Missouri.  One  of  them  sug 
gested  Mr.  Lincoln  as  also  a  favorite,  many  Illinoisans  being  now 
settled  in  Oregon. 

"I  went  to  Chicago  to  do  my  best  to  nominate  Judge  Bates, 
unless  facts  there  developed  should  clearly  render  another  choice 
advisable.  I  deemed  Judge  Bates  the  very  man  to  satisfy  .and 
attract  the  great  body  of  conservative  and  quiet  voters  who  have 
hitherto  stood  aloof  from  the  Republican  organization,  not  because 
they  dissent  from  our  principles,  but  because  they  have  been  taught 
to  distrust  and  hate  us  on  other  grounds.  I  deemed  him  the  man 
whose  election  would,  while  securing  the  devotion  of  the  Territo 
ries  to  free  labor,  conciliate  and  calm  the  Slave  States  in  view  of  a 
Republican  ascendency.  But,  more  than  all,  I  felt  that  the  nomi 
nation  of  Judge  Bates  would  have  given  a  basis  and  an  impetus  to 
the  emancipation  cause  in  Missouri  which  would  nevermore  have 
been  arrested.  And  now,  when  all  the  world  is  raining  bouquets 
on  the  successful  nominee,  so  that,  if  he  were  not  a  very  tall  man, 
he  might  stand  a  chance  to  be  smothered  under  them ;  when  thou 
sands  are  rushing  to  bore  him  out  of  house  and  home,  and  snowing 
him  white  with  letters,  and  trying  to  plaster  him  all  over  with  their 
advertising  placards,  I,  who  knew  and  esteemed  him  ten  years  ago, 
reiterate  that  I  think  Judge  Bates,  to  whom  I  never  spoke  nor  wrote, 
would  have  been  the  wiser  choice.  I  say  this,  knowing  well  that 
his  nomination  would  have  fallen  like  a  wet  blanket  on  nearly  the 
whole  party,  that  thousands  would  have  sworn  never  to  support  it, 
and  that  counter-nominations  would  have  been  got  up,  or  seriously 
threatened.  But  I  kept  my  eye  steadily  on  the  fact  that  the  first 
and  only  summer  election  that  is  to  be  held  in  a  State  that  we 
could  in  any  event  hope  to  carry  is  that  of  Missouri,  where  the  Re 
publicans  all  earnestly  desired  the  selection  of  their  loved  and  hon 
ored  fellow-citizen,  and  where  thousands  not  Republicans  were 
ready  and  eager  to  co-operate  with  them  in  case  of  his  nomination. 
I  do  not  know  that  they  could  have  carried  their  State  in  August; 
but  they  confidently  thought  they  could,  and  would  at  all  events 
have  made  a  desperate  effort.  And  that  effort,  even  though  de 
feated,  would  have  shown  a  result  most  inspiriting  to  Republicans 


478         GREELEY   AT    THE    CHICAGO    CONVENTION   OF    1860. 

everywhere,  and  especially  propitious  to  the  free-labor  cause  in 
Missouri.  There  is  no  truer,  more  faithful,  more  deserving  Repub 
lican  than  Abraham  Lincoln ;  probably  no  nomination  could  have 
been  made  more  conducive  to  a  certain  triumph ;  and  yet  I  feel 
that  the  selection  of  Edward  Bates  would  have  been  more  far- 
sighted,  more  courageous,  more  magnanimous." 

Mr.  G-reeley  proceeded  to  state  that  the  true  cause  of  Mr.  Sew- 
ard's  defeat  was,  not  his  own  opposition  to  him,  but  the  conviction, 
on  the  part  of  the  delegates  from  New  Jersey,  Pennsylvania,  and 
Indiana,  that  the  nomination  of  Mr.  Seward  would  jeopardize  the 
election  in  those  States. 

This  article  in  the  Tribune  elicited  a  reply  from  Mr.  Henry  J. 
Raymond.  On  his  return  from  the  Chicago  Convention  Mr.  Ray 
mond  visited  his  friend  Seward  at  Auburn,  where  he  wrote  a  let 
ter  to  the  New  York  Times,  commenting  upon  Mr.  G-reeley's  con 
duct  with  severity,  and  attributing  it  to  personal  motives.  The 
following  is  the  material  part  of  his  letter :  — 

"  I  observe  that  to-day's  Tribune  contains  a  long  personal  explanation  from 
Mr.  Greeley  of  the  part  which  he  took  in  the  action  of  the  Chicago  Convention. 
It  is  never  easy  for  a  public  man  to  be  the  historian  of  his  own  exploits.  If 
he  be  a  vain  man,  he  will  exaggerate  his  personal  influence ;  if  he  be  an  over- 
modest  one,  he  will  underrate  it.  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say  that  Mr. 
Greeley  has  fallen  into  the  latter  mistake.  With  the  generosity  which  be 
longs  to  his  nature,  and  which  a  feeling  not  unlike  remorse  may  have  stimu 
lated  into  unwonted  activity,  he  awards  to  others  the  credit  which  belongs 
transcendently  to  himself.  The  main  work  of  the  Chicago  Convention  was 
the  defeat  of  Governor  Seward  ;  that  was  the  only  specific  and  distinct  object 
towards  which  its  conscious  efforts  were  directed.  The  nomination  which  it 
finally  made  was  purely  an  accident,  decided  far  more  by  the  shouts  and  ap 
plause  of  the  vast  concourse  which  dominated  the  Convention,  than  by  any 
direct  labors  of  any  of  the  delegates.  The  great  point  aimed  at  was  Mr.  Sew 
ard' s  defeat ;  and  in  that  endeavor  Mr.  Greeley  labored  harder,  and  did  ten 
fold  more,  than  the  whole  family  of  Blairs,  together  with  all  the  gubernato 
rial  candidates,  to  whom  he  modestly  hands  over  the  honors  of  the  effective 
campaign.  He  had  special  qualifications,  as  well  as  a  special  love  for  the  task, 
to  which  none  of  the  others  could  lay  any  claim.  For  twenty  years  he  had 
been  sustaining  the  political  principles  and  vindicating  the  political  conduct 
of  Mr.  Seward,  through  the  columns  of  the  most  influential  political  news 
paper  in  the  country.  He  had  infused  into  the  popular  mind,  especially 
throughout  the  Western  States,  the  most  profound  and  thorough  devotion  to  the 
antislavery  sentiments  which  had  given  character  to  Mr.  Seward's  public  ca 
reer  ;  he  had  vindicated  his  opinions  upon  naturalization  and  upon  the  organ 
ization  of  the  Know-Nothing  party  from  the  assaults  made  upon  them  ;  he 


MR.  RAYMOND'S  ACCUSATION.  479 

had  urged  his  re-election  to  the  Senate  in  the  face  of  all  the  sentiments  whicl 
had  made  him  obnoxious  to  a  portion  of  his  constituents  ;  he  had  gone  far  be 
yond  him  in  expressions  of  hostility  to  slavery,  in  palliation  of  armed  attempts 
for  its  overthrow,  and  in  assaults  upon  that  clause  of  the  Constitution  which 
requires  the  surrender  of  fugitive  slaves  ;  and  he  was  known  to  have  been  for 
more  than  twenty  years  his  personal  friend  and  political  supporter.  These 
things  gave  him  a  hold  upon  the  Republican  sentiment  of  the  country,  and  a 
weight  of  authority  in  everything  relating  to  Governor  Seward  to  which 
neither  '  old  Blair  of  the  Globe,'  as  Mr.  Greeley  styles  him,  nor  both  his  sons, 
could  for  a  moment  lay  claim.  His  voice  was  potential  precisely  where  Gov 
ernor  Seward  was  strongest,  —  because  it  was  supposed  to  be  that  of  a  friend, 
strong  in  his  personal  attachment  and  devotion,  and  driven  into  opposition  on 
this  occasion  solely  by  the  despairing  conviction  that  the  welfare  of  the  coun 
try  and  the  triumph  of  the  Republican  cause  demanded  the  sacrifice.  For 
more  than  six  months,  through  the  columns  of  the  Tribune,  Mr.  Greeley  had 
been  preparing  the  way  for  this  consummation.  Doubts  of  Mr.  Se ward's  pop 
ular  strength,  —  insinuated  rather  than  openly  uttered,  —  exaggerations  of 
local  prejudice  and  animosity  against  him  ;  hints  that  parties  and  men  hostile 
to  him  and  to  the  Republican  organization  must  be  conciliated,  and  their  sup 
port  secured  :  and  a  new-born  zeal  for  nationalizing  the  party  by  consulting 
the  slaveholding  States  in  regard  to  the  nomination, — had  filled  the  public  mind 
with  a  distrust  which  had  already  done  much  to  demoralize  the  Republican 
party,  and  prepare  the  minds  of  its  delegates  in  convention  for  the  personal  rep 
resentations  and  appeals  by  which  these  agencies  were  followed  up.  Mr.  Gree 
ley  was  in  Chicago  several  days  before  the  meeting  of  the  Convention,  and  ho 
devoted  every  hour  of  the  interval  to  the  .most  steady  and  relentless  prosecu 
tion  of  the  main  business  which  took  him  thither,  —  the  defeat  of  Governor 
Seward.  He  labored  personally  with  the  delegates  as  they  arrived,  —  com 
mending  himself  always  to  their  confidence  by  professions  of  regard  and  the 
most  zealous  friendship  for  Governor  Seward,  but  presenting  defeat,  even  in 
New  York,  as  the  inevitable  result  of  his  nomination. 

"  Mr.  Greeley  was  largely  indebted  to  the  forbearance  of  those  npon.  whom 
he  was  waging  this  warfare  for  the  means  of  making  it  effectual.  While  it 
was  known  to  some  of  them  that,  nearly  six  years  ago  —  in  November,  1854 
—  he  had  privately,  but  distinctly,  repudiated  all  further  political  friendship 
for  and  alliance  with  Governor  Seward,  and  menaced  him  with  his  hostility 
whenever  it  could  be  made  most  effective,  for  the  avowed  reason  that  Gover 
nor  Seward  had  never  aided  or  advised  his  elevation  to  office  ;  that  he  had 
never  recognized  his  claim  to  such  official  promotion,  but  had  tolerated  the 
elevation  of  men  known  to  be  obnoxious  to  him,  and  who  had  rendered  far 
less  service  to  the  party  than  he  had  done,  —  no  use  was  made  of  this  knowl 
edge  in  quarters  where  it  would  have  disarmed  the  deadly  effect  of  his  pretended 
friendship  for  the  man  upon  whom  he  was  thus  deliberately  wreaking  the  long- 
hoarded  revenge  of  a  disnppointed  office-seeker.  He  was  still  allowed  to  repre 
sent  to  the  delegations  from  Vermont,  New  Hampshire,  Ohio,  Indiana,  and 
other  States  known  to  be  in  favor  of  Governor  Seward's  nomination,  that, 


480          GREELEY   AT    THE    CHICAGO    CONVENTION    OF    I860. 

while  he  desired  it  upon  the  strongest  grounds  of  personal  and  political  friend 
ship,  ho  believed  it  would  be  fatal  to  the  success  of  the  cause.  Being  thus 
stimulated  by  a  hatred  he  had  secretly  cherished  for  years,  —  protected  by  the 
forbearance  of  those  whom  he  assailed,  and  strong  in  the  confidence  of  those 
upon  whom  he  sought  to  operate,  —  it  is  not  strange  that  Mr.  Greeley's  efforts 
should  have  been  crowned  with  success.  But  it  is  perfectly  safe  to  say  that 
no  other  man  —  certainly  no  one  occupying  a  position  less  favorable  for  such 
an  assault  —  could  possibly  have  accomplished  that  result. 

"We  deem  it  only  just  to  Mr.  Greeley  thus  early  to  award  him  the  full 
credit  for  the  main  result  of  the  Chicago  Convention,  because  his  own  modesty 
will  prevent  his  claiming  it,  —  at  all  events  until  the  new  Republican  adminis 
tration  shall  be  in  position  to  distribute  its  rewards.  It  is  not  right  that  merit 
so  conspicuous  should  remain  so  long  in  the  shade.  Even  the  most  transcen 
dent  services  are  in  danger  of  being  forgotten,  in  the  tumult  and  confusion  of 
a  contested  election  ;  and  we  cheerfully  tender,  for  Mr.  Greeley's  use,  this 
record  of  his  deserts,  when  he  may  claim  at  the  hands  of  his  new  associates 
that  payment  for  lack  of  which  he  has  deserted  and  betrayed  his  old  ones. 

"  I  have  said  above,  that  the  final  selection  of  Lincoln  as  the  candidate  was 
a  matter  of  accident.  I  mean  by  this  that,  down  to  the  time  of  taking  the  first 
ballot,  there  had  been  no  agreement  among  the  opponents  of  Seward  as  to  the 
candidate  upon  whom  they  should  unite.  The  first  distinct  impression  in 
Lincoln's  favor  was  made  by  the  tremendous  applause  which  arose  from  the 
ten  thousand  persons  congregated  in  the  Wigwam,  upon  the  presentation  of 
his  name  as  a  candidate,  and  by  the  echo  it  received  from  the  still  larger 
gathering  in  the  street  outside.  The  arrangements  for  the  Convention  were  in 
the  hands  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  friends,  and  they  had  been  made  with  special  ref 
erence  to  securing  the  largest  possible  concourse  ofohis  immediate  neighbors 
and  political  supporters.  It  was  easy  to  see  that  the  thundering  shouts  which 
greeted  every  vote  given  for  him  impressed  what  Mr.  Greeley  calls  the  '  rag 
ged  columns  forming  the  opposing  host,'  with  the  conviction  that  he  was  the 
only  man  with  whom  Mr.  Seward  could  be  defeated.  Vermont,  whose  dele 
gates  would  have  been  peremptorily  instructed  to  vote  for  Seward  if  there  had 
been  the  slightest  apprehension  on  the  part  of  their  constituents  that  they  could 
do  otherwise,  was  the  first  to  catch  the  contagious  impulse  ;  and  throughout 
the  second  ballot  the  efforts  of  other  States  to  resist  the  current  which  del 
uged  the  Convention  from  without  were  but  partially  successful.  On  the 
third  ballot  the  outsiders  had  it  all  their  own  way.  Upon  the  first  call  Lin 
coln  lacked  only  two  and  a  half  votes  of  a  nomination.  Ohio  was  the  first  to 
clutch  at  the  honor  of  deciding  the  choice  ;  and  thenceforward  the  only  ap 
prehension  on  the  part  of  delegates  seemed  to  be  that  they  would  not  be  regis 
tered  on  the  winning  side.  The  final  concentration  upon  Lincoln  was  then 
mainly,  in  my  judgment,  a  matter  of  impulse." 

The  reader  will  have  observed,  from  the  sentences  of  this  letter 
printed  in  Italics,  that  Mr.  Raymond  refers  to  a  private  letter  of 
the  editor  of  the  Tribune,  written  in  November,  1854,  to  Mr. 


HORACE    GREELEY    TO    WILLIAM    H.    SEWARD.  481 

Seward,  in  which  Mr.  Greeley  was  said  to  have  renounced  political 
friendship  with  the  Republican  chiefj  and  to  have  menaced  him 
with  hostility.  Mr.  G-reoley  instantly  demanded  the  letter  for 
publication  in  every  edition  of  the  Tribune.  After  some  delay  the 
letter  was  produced  and  immediately  published.  The  following  is 
a  copy  of  it :  — 

HORACE  GREELEY  TO   WILLIAM  H.   SEWARD. 

"  NEW  YORK,  Saturday  eve.,  Nov.  11, 1854. 

"GOVERNOR  SEWARD: — The  election  is  over,  and  its  results  suffi 
ciently  ascertained.  It  seems  to  me  a  fitting  time  to  announce  to 
you  the  dissolution  of  the  political  firm  of  Seward,  Weed,  and  Gree 
ley,  by  the  withdrawal  of  the  junior  partner, — said  withdrawal  to 
take  effect  on  the  morning  after  the  first  Tuesday  in  February  next* 
And,  as  it  may  seem  a  great  presumption  in  me  to  assume  that  any 
such  firm  exists,  especially  since  the  public  was  advised,  rather  more 
than  a  year  ago,  by  an  editorial  rescript  in  the  Evening  Journal,  for 
mally  reading  me  out  of  the  Whig  party,  that  I  was  esteemed  no 
longer  either  useful  or  ornamental  in  the  concern,  you  will,  I  am 
sure,  indulge  me  in  some  reminiscences  which  seem  to  befit  the 
occasion, 

"  I  was  a  poor  young  printer  and  editor  of  a  literary  journal,  — a 
very  active  and  bitter  Whig  in  a  small  way,  but  not  seeking  to  be 
known  out  of  my  own  ward  committee,  —  when,  after  the  great 
political  revulsion  of  1837,  I  was  one  day  called  to  the  City  Hotel, 
where  two  strangers  introduced  themselves  as  Thurlow  Weed  and 
Lewis  Benedict  of  Albany.  They  told  me  that  a  cheap  campaign 
paper  of  a  peculiar  stamp  at  Albany  had  been  resolved  on,  and  that 
I  had  been  selected  to  edit  it.  The  announcement  might  well  be 
deemed  flattering  by  one  who  had  never  even  sought  the  notice  of 
the  great,  and  who  was  not  known  as  a  partisan  writer,  and  I 
eagerly  embraced  their  proposals.  They  asked  me  to  fix  my  salary 
for  the  year;  I  named  $1,000,  which  they  agreed  to;  and  I  did  the 
work  required  to  the  best  of  my  ability.  It  was  work  that  made 
no  figure  and  created  no  sensation ;  but  I  loved  it,  and  I  did  it  well 

*  The  day  on  which  the  re-election  of  Mr.  Seward  to  the  Senate  was  ex 
pected  to  occur,  and  on  which  it  did  occur,  with  the  Tribune's  assent  and 
support. — J.  P. 

21  EE 


482         GREELEY  AT   THE  CHICAGO   CONVENTION   OF   1860. 

When  it  was  done,  you  were  Governor,  dispensing  offices  worth 
$3,000  to  $20,000  per  year  to  your  friends  and  compatriots,  and  I 
returned  to  my  garret  and  my  crust,  and  my  desperate  battle  with 
pecuniary  obligations  heaped  upon  me  by  bad  partners  in  business 
and  the  disastrous  events  of  1837.  I  believe  it  did  not  then  occur 
to  me  that  some  one  of  these  abundant  places  might  have  been  of 
fered  to  me  without  injustice ;  I  now  think  it  should  have  occurred 
to  you.  If  it  did  occur  to  me,  I  was  not  the  man  to  ask  you  for  it ; 
I  think  that  should  not  have  been  necessary.  I  only  remember  that 
no  friend  at  Albany  inquired  as  to  my  pecuniary  circumstances , 
that  your  friend  (but  not  mine)  Robert  C.  Wetmore  was  one  of  the 
chief  dispensers  of  your  patronage  here;  and  that  such  devoted 
compatriots  as  A.  H.  Wells  and  John  Hooks  were  lifted  by  you  out 
of  pauperism  into  independence,  as  I  am  glad  I  was  not;  and  yet 
an  inquiry  from  you  as  to  my  needs  and  means  at  that  time  would 
have  been  timely,  and  held  ever  in  grateful  remembrance. 

."In  the  Harrison  campaign  of  1840  I  was  again  designated  to 
edit  a  campaign  paper.  I  published  it  as  well,  and  ought  to  have 
made  something  by  it,  in  spite  of  its  extremely  low  price ;  my  ex 
treme  poverty  was  the  main  reason  why  I  did  not.  It  compelled 
me  to  hire  press-work,  mailing,  &c.,  done  by  the  job,  and  high 
charges  for  extra  work  nearly  ate  me  up.  At  the  close,  I  was  still 
without  property  and  in  debt3  but  this  paper  had  rather  improved 
my  position. 

"Now  came  the  great  scramble  of  the  swell  mob  of  coon  min 
strels  and  cider-suckers  at  Washington,  —  I  not  being  counted  in. 
Several  regiments  of  them  went  on  from  this  city ;  but  no  one  of 
the  whole  crowd,  though  I  say  it  who  should  not,  had  done  so 
much  toward  General  Harrison's  nomination  and  election  as  yours 
respectfully.  I  asked  nothing,  expected  nothing ;  but  you,  Gov 
ernor  Seward,  ought  to  have  asked  that  I  be  postmaster  of  New 
York.  Your  asking  would  have  been  in  vain ;  but  it  would  have 
been  an  act  of  grace  neither  wasted  nor  undeserved. 

"  I  soon  after  started  the  Tribune,  because  I  was  urged  to  do  so 
by  certain  of  your  friends,  and  because  such  a  paper  was  needed 
here.  I  was  promised  certain  pecuniary  aid  in  so  doing ;  it  might 
have  been  given  me  without  cost  or  risk  to  any  one.  All  I  ever 
had  was  a  loan  by  piecemeal  of  $1,000  from  James  Coggeshall,  — 
God  bless  his  honored  memory  1  I  did  not  ask  for  this,  and  I  think 


HORACE    GREELEY    TO    WILLIAM    H.    SEWARD.  483 

it  is  the  one  sole  case  in  which  I  ever  received  a  pecuniary  favor 
from  a  political  associate.  I  am  very  thankful  that  he  did  not  die 
till  it  was  fully  repaid. 

"And  let  me  here  honor  one  grateful  recollection.  When  the 
Whig  party  under  your  rule  had  offices  to  give  my  name  was 
never  thought  of;  but  when,  in  1842-43,  we  were  hopelessly  out 
of  power,  I  was  honored  with  the  party  nomination  for  State 
Printer.  When  we  came  again  to  have  a  State  Printer  to  elect  as 
well  as  nominate,  the  place  went  to  Weed,  as  it  ought.  Yet  it  is 
worth  something  to  know  that  there  was  once  a  time  when  it  was 
not  deemed  too  great  a  sacrifice  to  recognize  me  as  belonging  to 
your  household.  If  a  new  office  had  not  since  been  created  on 
purpose  to  give  its  valuable  patronage  to  H.  J.  Raymond  and  en 
able  St.  John  to  show  forth  his  '  Times '  as  the  organ  of  the  Whig 
State  Administration,  I  should  have  been  still  more  grateful. 

"  In  1848  your  star  again  rose,  and  my  warmest  hopes  were  real 
ized  in  your  election  to  the  Senate.  I  was  no  longer  needy,  and 
had  no  more  claim  than  desire  to  be  recognized  by  General  Taylor. 
I  think  I  had  some  claim  to  forbearance  from  you.  What  I  re 
ceived  thereupon  was  a  most  humiliating  lecture  in  the  shape  of  a 
decision  in  the  libel  case  of  Redfield  and  Pringle,  and  an  obligation 
to  publish  it  in  my  own  and  the  other  journal  of  our  supposed  firm. 
I  thought  and  still  think  this  lecture  needlessly  cruel  and  mortifying. 
The  plaintiffs,  after  using  my  columns  to  the  extent  of  their  needs 
or  desires,  stopped  writing,  and  called  on  me  for  the  name  of  their 
assailant.  I  proffered  it  to  them,  —  a  thoroughly  responsible  name. 
They  refused  to  accept  it,  unless  it  should  prove  to  be  one  of  the 
four  or  five  first  men  in  Batavia! — when  they  had  known  from 
the  first  who  it  was,  and  that  it  was  neither  of  them.  They  would 
not  accept  that  which  they  had  demanded ;  they  sued  me  instead 
for  money,  and  money  you  were  at  liberty  to  give  them  to  your 
heart's  content.  I  do  not  think  you  were  at  liberty  to  humiliate  me 
in  the  eyes  of  my  own  and  your  *  public  as  you  did.  I  think  you 
exalted  your  own  judicial  sternness  and  fearlessness  unduly  at  my 
expense.  I  think  you  had  a  better  occasion  for  the  display  of  these 
qualities,  when  Webb  threw  himself  untimely  upon  you  for  a  par- 

*  "  If  I  am  not  mistaken,  this  judgment  is  the  only  speech,  letter,  or  docu 
ment  addressed  to  the  public  in  which  you  ever  recognized  my  existence.  I 
hope  I  may  not  go  down  to  posterity  as  embalmed  therein." 


484         GREELEY  AT   THE   CHICAGO   CONVENTION   OF   1860. 

don  which  he  had  done  all  a  man  could  do  to  demerit.  (His  paper 
is  paying  you  for  it  now.) 

"  I  have  publicly  set  forth  my  view  of  your  and  our  duty  with 
respect  to  fusion,  Nebraska,  and  party  designations.  I  will  not 
repeat  any  of  that.  I  have  referred  also  to  Weed's  reading  me  out 
of  the  Whig  party, — my  crime  being,  in  this  as  in  some  other 
things,  that  of  doing  to-day  what  more  politic  persons  will  not  be 
ready  to  do  till  to-morrow. 

"  Let  me  speak  of  the  late  canvass.  I  was  once  sent  to  Congress 
for  ninety  days,  merely  to  enable  Jim  Brooks  to  secure  a  seat 
therein  for  four  years.  I  think  I  never  hinted  to  any  human  being 
that  I  would  have  liked  to  be  put  forward  for  any  place.  But 
James  W.  White  (you  hardly  know  how  good  and  true  a  man  he 
is)  started  my  name  for  Congress,  and  Brooks's  packed  delegation 
thought  I  could  help  him  through;  so  I  was  put  on  behind  him. 
But  this  last  spring,  after  the  Nebraska  question  had  created  a  new 
state  of  things  at  the  North,  one  or  two  personal  friends,  of  no  po 
litical  consideration,  suggested  my  name  as  a  candidate  for  Gover 
nor,  and  I  did  not  discourage  them.  Soon,  the  persons  who  were 
afterward  mainly  instrumental  in  nominating  Clark  came  about  me, 
and  asked  if  I  could  secure  the  Know-Nothing  vote.  I  told  them 
I  neither  could  nor  would  touch  it;  on  the  contrary,  I  loathed 
and  repelled  it.  Thereupon  they  turned  upon  Clark. 

"  I  said  nothing,  did  nothing.  A  hundred  people  asked  me  who 
should  be  run  for  Governor.  I  sometimes  indicated  Patterson ;  I 
never  hinted  at  my  own  name.  But  by  and  by  Weed  came  down 
and  called  me  to  him,  to  tell  me  why  he  could  not  support  me  for 
Governor.  (I  had  never  asked  nor  counted  on  his  support.) 

"  I  am  sure  Weed  did  not  mean  to  humiliate  me ;  but  he  did  it. 
The  upshot  of  his  discourse  (very  cautiously  stated)  was  this :  If  I 
were  a  candidate  for  Governor,  I  should  beat,  not  myself  only,  but 
you.  Perhaps  that  was  true.  But  as  I  had  in  no  manner  solicited 
his  or  your  support,  I  thought  this  might  have  been  said  to  my 
friends  rather  than  to  me.  I  suspect  it  is  true  that  I  could  not 
have  been  elected  Governor  as  a  Whig.  But  had  he  and  you  been 
favorable,  there  would  have  been  a  party  in  the  State  ere  this  which 
could  and  would  have  elected  me  to  any  post,  without  injuring 
itself  or  endangering  your  re-election. 

"  It  was  in  vain  that  I  urged  that  I  had  in  no  manner  asked  a 


HORACE    GREELEY    TO    WILLIAM    H.    SEWARD.  485 

nomination.  At  length  I  was  nettled  by  his  language  —  well  in 
tended,  but  very  cutting  as  addressed  by  him  to  me  —  to  say,  in 
substance,  'Well,  then,  make  Patterson  Governor,  and  try  my 
name  for  Lieutenant.  To  lose  this  place  is  a  matter  of  no  impor 
tance  ;  and  we  can  see  whether  I  am  really  so  odious.' 

"I  should  have  hated  to  serve  as  Lieutenant-G-overnor,  but  I 
should  have  gloried  in  running  for  the  post.  I  want  to  have  my 
enemies  all  upon  me  at  once ;  I  am  tired  of  fighting  them  piece 
meal.  And,  though  I  should  have  been  beaten  in  the  canvass,  I 
know  that  my  running  would  have  helped  the  ticket,  and  helped 
my  paper. 

"  It  was  thought  best  to  let  the  matter  take  another  course.  No 
other  name  could  have  been  put  on  the  ticket  so  bitterly  humbling, 
to  me  as  that  which  was  selected.  The  nomination  was  given  to 
Raymond;  the  fight  left  to  me.  And,  Governor  Seward,  /  have 
made  it,  though  it  be  conceited  in  me  to  say  so.  What  little  fight 
there  has  been  I  have  stirred  up.  Even  Weed  has  not  been  (I 
speak  of  his  paper)  hearty  in  this  contest,  while  the  journal  of  the 
Whig  Lieutenant-Governor  has  taken  care  of  its  own  interests  and 
let  the  canvass  take  care  of  itself,  as  it  early  declared  it  would  do. 
That  journal  has  (because  of  its  milk-and-water  course)  some 
twenty  thousand  subscribers  in  this  city  and  its  suburbs,  and,  of 
these  twenty  thousand,  I  venture  to  say  more  voted  for  Ullmann 
and  Scroggs  than  for  Clark  and  Raymond ;  the  Tribune  (also  be 
cause  of  its  character)  has  but  eight  thousand  subscribers  within 
the  same  radius,  and  I  venture  to  say  that  of  its  habitual  readers 
nine  tenths  voted  for  Clark  and  Raymond,  —  very  few  for  Ullmann 
and  Scroggs.  I  had  to  bear  the  brunt  of  the  contest,  and  take  a 
terrible  responsibility  in  order  to  prevent  the  Whigs  uniting  upon 
James  W.  Barker  in  order  to  defeat  Fernando  Wood.  Had  Barker 
been  elected  here,  neither  you  nor  I  could  walk  these  streets  with 
out  being  hooted,  and  Know-JSTothingism  would  have  swept  like  a 
prairie-fire.  I  stopped  Barker's  election  at  the  cost  of  incurring 
the  deadliest  enmity  of  the  defeated  gang;  and  I  have  been  re 
buked  for  it  by  the  Lieutenant-Governor's  paper.  At  the  critical 
moment,  he  came  out  against  John  Wheeler  in  favor  of  Charles  H. 
Marshall  (who  would  have  been  your  deadliest  enemy  in  the 
House),  and  even  your  Colonel  General's  paper,  which  was  even 
with  me  in  insisting  that  Wheeler  should  be  returned,  wheeled 


486          GREELEY  AT   THE   CHICAGO   CONVENTION   OF   I860. 

about  at  the  last  moment  and  went  in  for  Marshall,  —  the  Tribune 
alone  clinging  to  Wheeler  till  the  last.  I  rejoice  that  they  who 
turned  so  suddenly  were  not  able  to  turn  all  their  readers. 

"  Governor  Seward,  I  know  that  some  of  your  most  cherished 
friends  think  me  a  great  obstacle  to  your  advancement;  that 
John  Schoolcraft,  for  one,  insists  that  you  and  Weed  shall  not  be 
identified  with  me.  I  trust,  after  a  time,  you  will  not  be.  I  trust 
I  shall  never  be  found  in  opposition  to  you ;  I  have  no  further  wish 
but  to  glide  out  of  the  newspaper  world  as  quietly  and  as  speedily 
as  possible,  join  my  family  in  Europe,  and  if  possible  stay  there 
quite  a  time,  —  long  enough  to  cool  my  fevered  brain  and  renovate 
my  overtasked  energies.  All  I  ask  is  that  we  shall  be  counted 
even  on  the  morning  after  the  first  Tuesday  in  February,  as  afore 
said,  and  that  I  may  thereafter  take  such  course  as  seems  best 
without  reference  to  the  past. 

"  You  have  done  me  acts  of  valued  kindness  in  the  line  of  your 
profession :  let  me  close  with  the  assurance  that  these  will  ever  be 

gratefully  remembered  by         Yours, 

"  HORACE  GREELEY. 
"  HON.  WILLIAM  H.  SEWARD,  present." 

Tn  commenting  upon  this  letter,  Mr.  Greeley  contended  that  it 
did  not  justify  the  accusation  that  his  motive  in  opposing  Mr.  Sew 
ard  was  personal,  still  less  malignant.  He  concluded  his  remarks 
upon  it  in  the  following  terms :  — 

"  A  single  word  of  improvement  to  the  young  and  ardent  politi 
cians  who  may  read  my  letter  and  this  comment.  The  moral  I  would 
inculcate  is  a  trite  one,  but  none  the  less  important.  It  is  summed 
up  in  the  Scriptural  injunction,  'Put  not  your  trust  in  princes.' 
Men,  even  the  best,  are  frail  and  mutable,  while  principle  is  sure 
and  eternal.  Be  no  man's  man  but  Truth's  and  your  country's. 
You  will  be  sorely  tempted  at  times  to  take  this  or  that  great  man 
for  your  oracle  and  guide,  —  it  is  easy  and  tempting  to  lean,  to  fol 
low,  and  to  trust, — but  it  is  safer  and  wiser  to  look  ever  through 
your  own  eyes,  to  tread  your  own  path,  to  trust  implicitly  in 
God  alone.  The  atmosphere  is  a  little  warmer  inside  some  great 
man's  castle,  but  the  free  ah-  of  heaven  is  ever  so  much  purer  and 
more  bracing.  My  active  political  life  may  be  said  to  have  begun 
with  Governor  Seward's  appearance  on  the  broader  stage ;  for  I 
edited  my  first  political  sheet  (The  Constitution)  in  1834,  when 


COMMENTS    OF    TIIUKLOW   WEED.  487 

he  was  first  a  candidate  for  Governor,  and  I  very  ardently  labored 
in  1854  to  secure  his  re-election  to  the  Senate.  Thenceforward  I 
have  had  no  idol,  but  have  acted  without  personal  bias  as  the  high 
est  public  good  has  from  time  to  time  seemed  to  me  to  demand. 
I  have  differed  frankly  with  Governor  Seward  on  some  financial 
points;  but  I  think  have  uttered  more  praise  with  less  blame  of 
him  than  of  any  other  living  statesman.  I  have  been  reminded  of 
late  that  the  Tribune  has  once  or  twice  seemed  to  resent  his  treat 
ment  in  the  Senate  of  Rust's  assault  on  me ;  but  1  certainly  never 
alluded  to  that,  and  I  am  confident  that  the  strictures  instanced 
must  have  been  published  while  I  was  absent  from  the  city.  The 
matter  never  seemed  to  me  worth  a  paragraph.  And  if  ever  in  my 
life  I  discharged  a  public  duty  in  utter  disregard  of  personal  con 
siderations,  I  did  so  at  Chicago  last  month.  I  was  no  longer  a 
devotee  of  G-overnor  Seward;  but  I  was  equally  independent  of 
all  others;  and  if  I  had  been  swayed  by  feeling  alone,  I  should 
have,  for  many  reasons,  preferred  him  to  any  of  his  competitors. 
Our  personal  intercourse,  as  well  since  as  before  my  letter  herewith 
published,  had  always  been  frank  and  kindly,  and  I  was  never  in 
sensible  to  his  many  good  and  some  great  qualities,  both  of  head 
and  heart.  But  I  did  not  and  do  not  believe  it  advisable  that  he 
should  be  the  Republican  candidate  for  President;  and  I  acted  in 
full  accordance  with  my  deliberate  convictions.  Need  I  add,  that 
each  subsequent  day's  developments  have  tended  to  strengthen  my 
confidence  that  what  I  did  was  not  only  well  meant,  but  well 
done?" 

And  now,  having  given  Mr.  Greeley's  version  of  this  painful  con 
troversy,  it  is  proper  to  give  that  of  another  partner  in  the  political 
firm,  Mr.  Thurlow  Weed,  then  the  editor  of  the  Albany  Evening 
Journal 

THURLOW  WEED   ON  HORACE   GREELEY'S  LETTER 
TO  MR.   SEWARD. 

"  There  are  some  things  in  this  letter  requiring  explanation,  —  all  things  in 
it,  indeed,  are  susceptible  of  explanations  consistent  with  Governor  Seward's 
full  appreciation  of  Mr.  Greeley's  friendship  and  services.  The  letter  was 
evidently  written  under  a  morbid  state  of  feeling,  and  it  is  less  a  matter  of 
surprise  that  such  a  letter  was  thus  written,  than  that  its  writer  should  not 
only  cherish  the  ill-will  that  prompted  it,  for  six  years,  but  allow  it  to  influ 
ence  his  action  upon  a  question  which  concerns  his  party  and  his  country. 


488          GREELEY   AT    THE    CHICAGO    CONVENTION    OP    1860. 

"  Mr.  Grceley's  first  complaint  is  that  this  journal,  in  an  '  editorial  rescript, 
formally  readme  [him]  out  of  the  Whiff  party.' 

"  Now  here  is  the  l  editorial  rescript  formally  reading '  Mr.  Greeley  out  of 
the  Whig  party. 

"  [From  the  Evening  Journal  of  Sept.  6,  1853.] 

" '  The  Tribune  defines  its  position  in  reference. to  the  approaching  election. 
Regarding  the  "Maine  Law"  as  a  question  of  paramount  importance,  it  will 
support  members  of  the  Legislature  friendly  to  its  passage,  irrespective  of 
party. 

" '  For  State  officers  the  Tribune  will  support  such  men  as  it  deems  compe 
tent  and  trustworthy,  irrespective  also  of  party,  and  without  regard  to  the 
"  Maine  Law." 

" '  In  a  word,  the  Tribune  avows  itself,  for  the  present,  if  not  forever,  an 
independent  journal  (it  was  pretty  much  so  always),  discarding  party  "  nsagcs, 
mandates,  and  platforms." 

" '  We  regret  to  lose,  in  the  Tribune,  an  old,  able,  and  efficient  colaborer 
in  the  Whig  vineyard.  But  when  carried  away  by  its  convictions  of  duty  to 
others,  and,  hi  its  judgment,  higher  and  more  beneficent  objects,  we  have  as 
little  right  as  inclination  to  complain.  The  Tribune  takes  with  it,  wher 
ever  it  goes,  an  indomitable  and  powerful  pen,  a  devoted,  a  noble,  and  an  un 
selfish  zeal.  Its  senior  editor  evidently  supposes  himself  permanently  di 
vorced  from  the  Whig  party,  but  we  shall  be  disappointed  if,  after  a  year  or 
two's  sturdy  pulling  at  the  oar  of  Reform,  he  does  not  return  to  his  long-cher 
ished  belief  that  great  and  beneficent  aims  must  continue,  as  they  commenced, 
to  be  wrought  out  through  Whig  instrumentalities. 

" '  But  we  only  intended  to  say  that  the  Tribune  openly  and  frankly  avows 
its  intention  and  policy;  and  that  in  things  about  which  we  cannot  agree,  we 
can  and  will  disagree  as  friends.* 

u  Pray  read  this  article  again,  if  its  purpose  and  import  be  not  clearly  under 
stood  !  At  the  time  it  appeared,  the  Tribune  was  under  high-pressure  '  Maine- 
Law  '  speed.  That  question,  in  Mr.  Greeley 's  view,  was  paramount  to  all  oth 
ers.  It  was  the  Tribune's  '  higher  law.'  Mr.  Greeley  had  given  warning,  in 
his  Tribune,  that  he  should  support  '  Maine-Law '  candidates  for  the  Legisla 
ture,  and  for  State  offices,  regardless  of  their  political  or  party  principles  and 
character.  And  this,  too,  when  the  Senators  to  be  elected  had  to  choose  a 
Senator  in  Congress.  But  instead  of  'reading'  Mr.  Greeley  'out  of  the  Whig 
party,'  it  will  be  seen  that  after  Mr.  Greeley  had  read  himself  out  of  the  party 
by  discarding  '  party  usages,  mandates,  and  platforms,'  the  Evening  Journal, 
in  the  language  and  spirit  of  friendship,  predicted  just  what  happened,  viz. 
that,  in  due  time,  Mr.  Greeley  would  '  return  to  his  long-cherished  belief,  that 
great  and  beneficent  aims  must  continue,  as  they  commenced,  to  be  wrought  out 
through  \Vhig  instrumentalities.' 

"  We  submit,  even  to  Mr.  Greeley  himself,  whether  there  is  one  word  or 
thought  in  the  article  to  which  he  referred  justifying  his  accusation  that  he 
had  been  '  read  out  of  the  Whig  party '  by  the  Evening  Journal. 

u  When,  in  December,  1837,  we  sought  the  acquaintance  and  co-operation 


COMMENTS    OF    THURLOW    WEED.  489 

of  Mr.  Greeley,  we  were,  like  him,  a  '  poor  printer,'  working  as  hard  as  he 
worked.  We  had  then  been  sole  editor,  reporter,  news  collector, '  remarkable 
accident,'  '  horrid  murder,'  { items '  man,  &c.,  &c.,  for  seven  years,  at  a  salary 
of  $  750,  $  1,000,  $  1,250,  and  $  1,500.  We  had  also  been  working  hard,  for 
poor  pay,  as  an  editor  and  politician,  for  the  twelve  years  preceding  1830.  We 
stood,  therefore,  on  the  same  footing  with  Mr.  Greeley  when  the  partnership 
was  formed.  We  knew  that  Mr.  Greeley  was  much  abler,  more  indomitably 
industrious,  and,  as  we  believed,  a  better  man  in  all  respects.  We  foresaw 
for  him  a  brilliant  future ;  and,  if  we  had  not  started  with  utterly  erroneous 
views  of  his  objects,  we  do  not  believe  that  our  relations  would  have  jarred. 
We  believed  him  indifferent  alike  to  the  temptations  of  money  and  office,  de 
siring  only  to  become  both  *  useful '  and  '  ornamental,'  as  the  editor  of  a  patri 
otic,  enlightened,  leading,  and  influential  public  journal.  For  years,  there 
fore,  we  placed  Horace  Greeley  far  above  the  *  swell-mob '  of  office-seekers,  for 
whom,  in  his  letter,  he  expresses  so  much  contempt.  Had  Governor  Seward 
known,  in  1848,  that  Mr.  Greeley  coveted  an  '  inspectorship,'  he  certainly 
would  have  received  it.  Indeed,  if  our  memory  be  not  at  fault,  Mr.  Greeley 
was  offered  the  Clerkship  of  the  Assembly  in  1838.  It  was  certainly  pressed 
upon  us,  and  though  at  that  time,  like  Mr.  Greeley, '  desperately  poor,'  it  was 
declined. 

"  We  cannot  think  that  Mr.  Greeley's  political  friends,  after  the  Tribune  was 
under  way,  knew  that  he  needed  the  '  pecuniary  aid '  which  had  been  promised. 
When,  about  that  period,  we  suggested  to  him  (after  consulting  some  of  the 
Board)  that  the  printing  of  the  Common  Council  might  be  obtained,  he  refused 
to  have  anything  to  do  with  it. 

"  In  relation  to  the  State  printing,  Mr.  Greeley  knows  that  there  never  was 
a  day  when,  if  he  had  chosen  to  come  to  Albany,  he  might  not  have  taken 
whatever  interest  he  pleased  in  the  Journal  and  its  State  printing.  But  he 
wisely  regarded  his  position  in  New  York,  and  the  future  of  the  Tribune,  as 
far  the  most  desirable. 

"  For  the  '  creation  of  the  new  office  for  the  Times '  Mr.  Greeley  knows  per 
fectly  well  that  Governor  Seward  was  in  no  manner  responsible. 

"  That  Mr.  Greeley  should  make  the  adjustment  of  the  libel  suit  of  Messrs. 
Redfield  and  Pringle  against  the  Tribune  a  ground  of  accusation  against  Gov 
ernor  Seward  is  matter  of  astonishment.  Governor  Seward  undertook  the 
settlement  of  that  suit  as  the  friend  of  Mr.  Greeley,  at  a  time  when  a  sys 
tematic  effort  was  being  made  to  destroy  both  the  Tribune  and  Evening  Jour 
nal,  by  prosecutions  for  libel.  We  were  literally  plastered  over  with  writs, 
declarations.  &c.  There  were  at  least  two  judges  of  the  Supreme  Court  in 
the  State,  on  whom  plaintiffs  were  at  liberty  to  count  for  verdicts.  Governor 
Seward  tendered  his  professional  services  to  Mr.  Greeley,  and  in  the  case  re 
ferred  to,  as  in  others,  foiled  the  adversary.  For  such  service  this  seems  a 
strange  requital.  Less  fortunate  than  the  Tribune,  it  cost  the  Evening  Jour 
nal  over  S  8,000  to  reach  a  point  in  legal  proceedings  that  enabled  a  defend 
ant  in  a  libel  suit  to  give  the  truth  in  evidence. 

"  It  was  by  no  fault  or  neglect  or  wish  of  Governor  Seward  that  Mr.  Greeley 
21* 


490          GREELEY   AT    THK    CHICAGO    CONVENTION    OF    1860. 

served  but  'ninety  days  in  Congress.'  Nor  will  we  say  what  others  have 
said,  that  his  Congressional  debut  was  '  a  failure.'  There  were  other  reasons, 
and  this  seems  a  fitting  occasion  to  state  them.  Mr.  Greeley's  '  isms '  were  in 
his  way  at  conventions.  The  '  sharp  points '  and  '  rough  edges '  of  the  Tribune 
rendered  him  unacceptable  to  those  who  nominate  candidates.  This  was  more 
so  formerly  than  at  present,  for  most  of  the  rampant  reforms  to  which  the 
Tribune  was  devoted  have  subsided.  But  we  had  no  sympathy  with,  and 
little  respect  for,  a  constituency  that  preferred  'Jim  Brooks'  to  Horace 
Greeley. 

"  Nearly  forty  years  of  experience  leaves  us  in  some  doubt  whether,  with 
political  friends,  an  open,  frank,  and  truthful,  or  a  cautious,  calculating,  non 
committal  course  is  (not  the  right,  but)  the  easiest  and  most  politic?  The 
former,  which  we  have  chosen,  has  made  us  much  trouble  and  many  enemies. 
Few  candidates  are  able  to  bear  the  truth,  or  to  believe  that  the  friend  who 
utters  it  is  truly  one. 

"  In  1854  the  Tribune,  through  years  of  earnest  effort,  had  educated  the -peo 
ple  up  to  the  point  of  demanding  a  '  Maine  Law '  candidate  for  Governor. 
But  its  followers  would  not  accept  their  Chief  Reformer!  It  was  evident 
that  the  State  Convention  was  to  be  largely  influenced  by  '  Maine  Law '  and 
'  Choctaw '  Know-Nothing  delegates.  It  was  equally  evident  that  Mr.  Gree 
ley  could  neither  be  nominated  nor  elected.  Hence  the  conference  to  which 
he  refers.  We  found,  as  on  two  other  occasions  during  thirty  years,  our 
State  Convention  impracticable.  We  submitted  the  names  of  Lieutenant- 
Governor  Patterson  and  Judge  Harris  (both  temperance  men  in  faith  and 
practice)  as  candidates  for  Governor,  coupled  with  that  of  Mr.  Greeley  for 
Lieutenant-Governor.  But  the  '  Maine  Law '  men  would  have  '  none  of  these,' 
preferring  Myron  H.  Clark  (who  used  up  the  raw  material  of  temperance), 
qualified  by  H.  J.  Raymond  for  Lieutenant-Governor. 

"  What  Mr.  Greeley  says  of  the  relative  zeal  and  efficiency  of  the  Tribune 
and  Times,  and  of  our  own  feelings  in  that  contest,  is  true.  We  did  our 
duty,  but  with  less  of  enthusiasm  than  when  we  were  supporting  either 
Granger,  Seward,  Bradish,  Hunt,  Fish,  King,  or  Morgan  for  Governor. 

"  One  word  in  relation  to  the  supposed  '  political  firm.'  Mr.  Greeley 
brought  into  it  his  full  quota  of  capital.  But  were  there  no  beneficial  results, 
no  accruing  advantages,  to  himself?  Did  he  not  attain,  in  the  sixteen  years, 
a  high  position,  a  world-wide  reputation,  and  an  ample  fortune  ?  Admit,  as 
we  do,  that  he  (Mr.  Greeley)  is  not  as  wealthy  as  we  wish  he  was,  it  is  not  be 
cause  the  Tribune  has  not  made  his  fortune,  but  because  he  did  not  keep  it, 
—  because  it  went,  as  other  people's  money  goes,  to  friends,  to  pay  indorse 
ments,  and  in  bad  investments. 

•'  We  have  both  been  liberally,  nay,  generously,  sustained  by  our  party.  Mr. 
Greeley  differs  with  us  in  regarding  patrons  of  newspapers  as  conferring  fa 
vors.  In  giving  them  the  worth  of  their  money,  he  holds  that  the  account  is 
balanced.  We,  on  the  other  hand,  have  ever  held  the  relation  of  newspaper 
editor  and  subscriber  as  one  of  fraternity.  Viewed  in  this  aspect,  the  editors 
of  the  Tribune  and  Evening  Journal  have  manifold  reasons  for  cherishing 


COMMENTS    OF    TIIURLOW    VTEED.  491 

grateful  recollections  of  the  liberal  and  abiding  confidence  and  patronage  of 
their  party  and  friends. 

"  In  conclusion,  we  cannot  withhold  an  expression  of  sincere  regret  that  this 
letter  has  been  called  out.  Having  remained  six  years  in  '  blissful  ignorance  * 
of  its  contents,  we  should  much  preferred  to  have  ever  remained  so.  It  jars 
harshly  upon  cherished  memories.  It  destroys  ideals  of  disinterestedness  and 
generosity  which  relieved  political  life  from  so  much  that  is  selfish,  sordid, 
and  rapacious." 

Mr.  G-reeley  again  denied  the  charge  of  personal  hostility  to  Mr. 
Seward.  "  The  most  careful  scavenger  of  private  letters,"  he  wrote 
in  reply  to  Mr.  Weed,  "  or  the  most  sneaking  eavesdropper  that 
ever  listened  to  private  conversation,  cannot  allege  a  single  reason 
for  any  personal  hostility  on  my  part  against  Mr.  Seward.  I  have 
never  received  from  him  anything  but  exceeding  kindness  and 
courtesy.  He  has  done  me  favors  (not  of  a  political  nature)  in  a 
manner  which  made  them  still  more  obliging ;  and  I  should  regard 
the  loss  o£  his  friendship  as  a  very  serious  loss.  Notwithstanding 
this,  I  could  not  support  him  for  President.  I  like  Mr.  Seward 
personally,  but  I  love  the  party  and  its  principles  more.  Success 
for  these  seemed  to  me  to  be  a  duty,  for  I  have  never  subscribed 
to  the  modern  doctrine  that  defeat  with  one  good  man  is  better 
than  victory  with  another  equally  trustworthy." 

It  was  charged  by  a  leading  journal  that  Mr.  Greeley's  course 
at  Chicago  was  influenced  by  the  fact  that  Mr.  Seward  had  but 
coldly  rebuked  Albert  Eust  for  his  assault  upon  the  editor  of  the 
Tribune,  in  the  streets  of  Washington.  This  also  Mr.  G-reeley  de 
nied.  "I  have  not,"  said  he,  "thought  of  the  matter  for  at  least 
two  years  past,  except  when  it  was  raised  in  my  presence  by  some 
one  else ;  and  in  every  such  case  I  have  discouraged  any  attempt 
to  magnify  it  into  importance.  On  the  spirit  and  good  taste  of 
Governor  Seward's  remarks  in  the  Senate  on  the  Rust  affair  I 
have  no  opinion  to  express :  but  this  is  a  very  email  matter  to  be 
thrust  into  a  canvass  for  a  Presidential  nomination.  It  has  never 
had  with  me  the  weight  of  a  butterfly's  wing,  and  I  am  certain 
that  I  never  spoke  of  it  to  any  one,  save  responsively,  and  never 
once  thought  of  it  at  Chicago." 

Among  the  ridiculous  consequences  of  Mr.  G-reeley's  conduct  was 
the  following  correspondence :  — 

"  AURORA,  N.  Y.,  May  19,  I860. 
"EDITORS  TRIBUNE:-*- 

**  GENTLEMEN  :  —  We  have  taken  the  Tribune  daily  from  the  morning  of  its 
first  issue  until  now,  through  all  its  isms. 


492         GREKLEY  AT   THE   CHICAGO   CONVENTION   OF   1860. 

"  You  will  discontinue  sending  it  to  us.  Our  only  regret  in  parting  is  that  we 
are  under  the  necessity  of  losing  a  three-cent  stamp  in  order  to  close  our  ac 
count. 

"  Wishing  you  a  good  time  for  a  few  months  to  come, 
"  We  are  truly  yours, 

"  MORGAN  &  MOSHER." 

REPLY. 

"  NEW  YORK,  May  22, 1860. 

"  GENTLEMEN  :  —  The  painful  regret  expressed  in  yours  of  the 
19th  instant  excites  my  sympathies.    I  enclose  you  a  three-cent 
stamp,  to  replace  that  whose  loss  you  deplore,  and  remain, 
"  Yours,  placidly, 

"HORACE  GREELET. 
"  Messrs.  MORGAN  &  MOSHER,  Aurora,  Cayuga  Co.,  N.  Y." 

The  friends  of  Mr.  Seward  had  not  long  to  wait  for  their  revenge. 
In  February,  1861,  Mr.  Greeley  was  a  leading  candidate  of  the  Re 
publican  party  to  represent  the  State  of  New  York  in  the  Senate 
of  the  United  States.  His  rival  for  a  nomination  by  the  Republi 
can  caucus  was  William  M.  Evarts,  a  distinguished  lawyer  of  the 
city  of  New  York.  In  a  caucus  of  one  hundred  and  fifteen  mem 
bers,  the  friends  of  these  two  candidates  were  so  evenly  divided, 
that,  after  eight  ballotings,  there  appeared  little  hope  of  either  being 
selected.  On  the  tenth  ballot  the  friends  of  Mr.  Evarts  abandoned 
their  candidate,  and  cast  their  votes  for  Judge  Ira  Harris  of  Albany, 
which  secured  his  nomination.  During  this  contest  Mr.  Thurlow 
Weed  was  in  another  room  of  the  State  Capitol.  Perhaps  the  best 
way  of  explaining  why  he  was  there  will  be  to  copy  the  following 
despatch  from  the  New  York  Herald,  dated  Albany,  February  2d, 
midnight :  — 

"  This  has  been  one  of  the  most  exciting  days  of  the  session. 
The  like  will  not  be  seen  at  the  Capitol  for  many  a  day.  During 
the  afternoon  everybody  appeared  to  be  on  the  run,  and  the  doubt 
ful  members  were  besieged  at  every  turn.  The  lobbies  and  halls 
at  the  Capitol  were  crowded  to  overflowing  at  the  opening  of  the 
caucus.  Weed  stationed  himself  in  the  Governor's  room,  and,  after 
the  first  ballot,  a  continuous  line  was  seen  going  back  and  forth. 
The  first  ballot  proved  that  my  canvass  was  not  four  out  of  the 
way,  and  its  announcement  was  as  a  wet  sheet  upon  the  Evarts 
side.  For  eight  long  ballots,  the  friends  of  each  watched  the  an- 


THE    COMMENTS    OF    THURLOW    WEED.  493 

nouncement,  to  see  who  had  changed ;  but  not  until  the  eighth  bal 
lot  could  there  be  found  any  evidence  whether  Greeley  or  Evarts 
would  rally.  On  that,  G-reeley  gained  five,  and  in  a  moment  the 
Harris  tickets  were  started  by  the  Weed  men.  The  fact  being 
known  that  there  was  a  break  in  the  line  caused  intense  excite 
ment.  Throughout  the  ninth  ballot  everybody  was  on  their  feet 
moving  about.  The  ballot  revealed  a  wonderful  change  of  ffont. 

"  The  forty-nine  votes  recorded  for  Harris  made  his  nomination 
certain  on  the  next  ballot. 

"  The  moment  it  was  known  that  he  received  sixty  votes,  there 
was  a  rush  for  Weed.  He  was  pulled  out  of  the  Governor's  room, 
and  completely  surrounded." 

At  this  point  the  feud  between  these  old  friends  ought  to  have 
ended.  Each  of  them  had  been  instrumental  in  defeating  the  cher 
ished  object  of  the  other.  They  ought  to  have  called  it  even, 
shaken  hands,  and  worked  together  for  the  country.  But  human 
passions  are  not  so  easily  allayed;  and  from  political  opponents 
they  had  the  misfortune  to  become  personal  enemies. 

The  following  paragraphs  from  the  Tribune  may  serve  to  com 
plete  the  history  of  these  events. 

"  The  Albany  Evening  Journal  says :  — 

" '  The  Postmaster-Generalship  was  once,  it  is  said,  a  pet  aspiration  of  the 
editor-in-chief  of  the  Tribune.' 

"  l  The  editor-in-chief  of  the  Tribune '  having  been  "designated  by 
several  influential  Republicans  for  Postmaster- General,  in  Novem 
ber  last  authorized  the  Honorable  Schuyler  Colfax  to  convey  to  the 
President  elect  his  decided  veto  on  that  selection.  This  was  be 
fore  it  was  known  that  Governor  Seward  had  reconsidered  his 
original  determination  to  accept  no  office  under  Mr.  Lincoln. 

"  Even  the  Evening  Journal  will  not  say  that  it  would  have  been 
presumptuous  in  the  editor  aforesaid  to  have  aspired  to  office  at  the 
hands  of  the  new  President.  The  fact  that  he  did  not  seek  any  such 
office,  but  early  and  decidedly  informed  those  friends  who  suggested 
the  matter  to  him  that  he  would  not  be  a  candidate  for  any  office 
whatever,  is  known  to  many.  So  much  for  that  point. 

"  The  Journal  says  that  Mr.  Lincoln  appointed  Mr.  Seward, 

"'Against  the  persistent  protestations  of  those  who  concurred  with  the 
Tribune.' 


494         GHEELEY   AT    THE    CHICAGO    CONVENTION    OF    1860. 

"  Shuffling  as  this  charge  is,  it  is  essentially  false.  The  Tribune 
promptly  and  heartily  approved  the  selection  of  Governor  Seward 
for  the  State  Department.  It  early  and  sincerely  offered  to  sup 
port  his  re-election  to  the  Senate,  while  it  was  understood  that  Mr. 
S.  would  take  no  appointment.  It  never  in  any  manner  opposed 
his  selection  for  the  Cabinet,  or  for  whatever  post  under  President 
Lincoln  he  might  choose  to  accept.  It  has  dissented  from  the  pol 
icy  to  which  he  has  recently  committed  himself,  but  never  sought 
to  bar  his  elevation  to  the  honorable  post  assigned  him,  and  which 
we  trust  he  will  fill  with  eminent  usefulness  and  honor." 

Perhaps  I  may  add,  that  a  few  days  after  the  election  of  Mr.  Lin 
coln,  in  November,  1860,  I  myself  heard  Mr.  Greeley  say :  "If  my 
advice  should  be  asked  respecting  Mr.  Lincoln's  Cabinet,  I  should 
recommend  the  appointment  of  Seward  as  Secretary  of  State.  It 
is  the  place  for  him,  and  he  wih1  do  honor  to  the  country  in  it." 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

DURING  THE  WAK. 

Mr.  Greeley's  opinions  upon  Secession  before  the  war  began— The  battle  of  Bull  Run- 
Correspondence  with  President  Lincoln— His  peace  negotiations— Assault  upon  the 
Tribune  office— Indorses  the  proffer  of  the  French  mission  to  the  editor  of  the  Herald 
— He  writes  a  history  of  the  war — He  offers  prizes  for  improved  fruits. 

HORACE  GREELEY  was  slow  to  believe  that  the  fire-eaters  of  the 
South  meant  to  bring  the  controversy  to  the  issue  of  arms.  He 
had  been  accustomed  from  his  boyhood  to  hear  threats  of  secession 
at  every  Presidential  election,  and  he  was  now  disposed  to  regard 
the  menacing  attitude  as  part  of  the  system  of  bluster  by  which  the 
South  for  so  many  years  had  controlled  the  politics  of  the  country. 
In  commenting  upon  the  proceedings  in  South  Carolina,  he  held 
language  which  was  misunderstood  both  by  friends  and  foes.  Quot 
ing  the  passage  from  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  that  govern 
ments  derive  their  just  powers  from  the  consent  of  the  governed, 
he  added : — 

"We  do  heartily  accept  this  doctrine,  believing  it  intrinsically 
sound,  beneficent,  and  one  that,  universally  accepted,  is  calculated 
to  prevent  the  shedding  of  seas  of  human  blood.  And  if  it  justified 
the  secession  from  the  British  Empire  of  three  millions  of  Colonists 
in  1776,  we  do  not  see  why  it  would  not  justify  the-  secession  of 
five  millions  of  Southrons  from  the  Federal  Union  in  1861.  If  we 
are  mistaken  on  this  point,  why  does  not  some  one  attempt  to  show 
wherein  and  why  ?  For  our  own  part,  while  we  deny  the  right  of 
slaveholders  to  hold  slaves  against  the  will  of  the  latter,  we  can 
not  see  how  twenty  millions  of  people  can  rightfully  hold  ten,  or 
even  five,  in  a  detested  union  with  them,  by  military  force. 

"  Of  course,  we  understand  that  the  principle  of  Jefferson,  like 
any  other  broad  generalization,  may  be  pushed  to  extreme  and 
baleful  consequences.  We  can  see  why  Governor's  Island  should 
not  be  at  liberty  to  secede  from  the  State  and  Nation,  and  allow 
herself  to  be  covered  with  French  and  British  batteries  command 
ing  and  threatening  our  city.  There  is  hardly  a  great  principle 
which  may  not  be  thus  '  run  into  the  ground.'  But  if  seven  or 


496  DURING   THE    WAR. 

eight  contiguous  States  shall  present  themselves  authentically  at 
Washington,  saying,  '  We  hate  the  Federal  Union ;  we  have  with 
drawn  from  it ;  we  give  you  the  choice  between  acquiescing  in  our 
secession  and  arranging  amicably  all  incidental  questions  on  the  one 
hand,  and  attempting  to  subdue  us  on  the  other,'  —  we  could  not 
stand  up  for  coercion,  for  subjugation,  for  we  do  not  think  it  would 
be  just.  We  hold  the .  right  of  self-government  sacred,  even  when 
invoked  in  behalf  of  those  who  deny  it  to  others.  So  much  for  the 
question  of  principle. 

"  Now  as  to  the  matter  of  policy :  — 

"  South  Carolina  will  certainly  secede.  Several  other  Cotton 
States  will  probably  follow  her  example.  The  Border  States  are 
evidently  reluctant  to  do  likewise.  South  Carolina  has  grossly  in 
sulted  them  by  her  dictatorial,  reckless  course.  What  she  expects 
and  desires  is  a  clash  of  arms  with  the  Federal  government,  which 
will  at  once  commend  her  to  the  sympathy  and  co-operation  of 
every  Slave  State,  and  to  the  sympathy  (at  least)  of  the  pro-slavery 
minority  in  the  Free  States.  It  is  not  difficult  to  see  that  this 
would  speedily  work  a  political  revolution,  which  would  restore  to 
slavery  all,  and  more  than  all,  it  has  lost  by  the  canvass  of  I860. 
We  want  to  obviate  this.  We  would  expose  the  seceders  to  odium 
as  disunionists,  not  commend  them  to  pity  as  the  gallant  though 
mistaken  upholders  of  the  rights  of  their  section  in  an  unequal  mili 
tary  conflict. 

"  We  fully  realize  that  the  dilemma  of  the  incoming  administra 
tion  will  be  a  critical  one.  It  must  endeavor  to  uphold  and  enforce 
the  laws,  as  well  against  rebellious  slaveholders  as  fugitive  slaves. 
The  new  President  must  fulfil  the  obligations  assumed  in  his  in 
auguration  oath,  no  matter  how  shamefully  his  predecessor  may 
have  defied  them.  We  fear  that  Southern  madness  may  precipitate 
a  bloody  collision  that  all  must  deplore.  But  if  *  ever  seven  or  eight 
States '  send  agents  to  Washington  to  say,  '  We  want  to  get  out  of 
the  Union,'  we  shall  feel  constrained  by  our  devotion  to  human  lib 
erty  to  say,  '  Let  them  go ! '  And  we  do  not  see  how  we  could  take 
the  other  side  without  coming  in  direct  conflict  with  those  rights 
of  man  which  we  hold  paramount  to  all  political  arrangements, 
however  convenient  and  advantageous." 

These  remarks  appeared  in  the  Tribune  of  December  17,  1860. 
On  the  24th  of  the  same  month  he  held  the  following  language :  — 


MR.  GREELEY'S  OPINIONS  OF  SECESSION.  497 

"We  believe  that  governments  are  made  for  peoples,  not  peoples 
for  governments,  —  that  the  latter  '  derive  their  just  power  from 
the  consent  of  the  governed';  and  whenever  a  portion  of  this 
Union,  large  enough  to  form  an  independent  self-subsisting  nation, 
shall  see  fit  to  say,  authentically,  to  the  residue,  '  We  want  to  get 
away  from  you,'  we  shall  say, — and  we  trust  self-respect,  if  not 
regard  for  the  principle  of  self-government,  will  constrain  the  resi 
due  of  the  American  people  to  say,  — '  Go ! '  We  never  yet  had 
so  poor  an  opinion  of  ourselves  or  our  neighbors  as  to  wish  to 
hold  others  in  a  hated  connection  with  us.  But  the  dissolution  of 
a  government  cannot  be  effected  in  the  time  required  for  knocking 
down  a  house  of  cards.  Let  the  Cotton  States,  or  any  six  or  more 
States,  say  unequivocally,  '  We  want  to  get  out  of  the  Union,'  and 
propose  to  effect  their  end  peaceably  and  inoffensively,  and  we  will 
do  our  best  to  help  them  out ;  not  that  we  want  them  to  go,  but 
that  we  loathe  the  idea  of  compelling  them  to  stay.  All  we  ask  is, 
that  they  exercise  a  reasonable  patience,  so  as  to  give  time  for 
effecting  their  end  without  bloodshed." 

Such  editorials  as  these,  though  sincere,  well  meant,  and  unan 
swerable,  appear  to  belong  to  the  class  of  nothings  which  the  edi 
tor  of  a  daily  paper  is  frequently  obliged  to  utter,  when  the  public 
mind  is  at  once  excited  and  undecided.  He  knew  perfectly  well, 
as  we  all  did,  that  the  question  of  secession  could  not  be  discussed 
at  the  South,  and  would  never  be  fairly  submitted  to  the  people, 
and  that  there  would  be  no  such  thing  as  a  calm  and  peaceful  wait 
ing  for  the  action  of  the  people  and  government.  "  I  do  not  be 
lieve,"  he  wrote  January  21,  1861,  "in  the  unanimity  of  the  South 
in  favor  of  secession,  because  the  conspirators  evidently  do  not  be 
lieve  in  it  themselves.  If  they  did,  they  would  eagerly  and  proudly 
submit  the  question  of  secession  to  a  direct  vote  of  the  people  of 
their  respective  States ;  but  this,  even  in  South  Carolina,  they  dare 
not  do.  Wherever  they  have  assented  to  a  popular  vote,  they  have 
done  so  with  manifest  reluctance,  and  only  because  they  needs 
must." 

And  again  on  the  same  day :  "  What  I  demand  is  proof  that  the 
Southern  people  really  desire  separation  from  the  Free  States. 
Whenever  assured  that  such  is  their  settled  wish,  I  shall  joyfully 
co-operate  with  them  to  secure  the  end  they  seek.  Thus  far,  I 
have  had  evidence  of  nothing  but  a  purpose  to  bully  and  coerce 

FF 


498  DURING    THE    WAR. 

tlie  North.  Many  of  the  secession  emissaries  to  the  Border  Slave 
States  tell  the  people  they  address  that  they  do  not  really  mean  to 
dissolve  the  Union,  but  only  to  secure  what  they  term  their  rights 
in  the  Union.  Now,  as  nearly  all  the  people  of  the  Slave  States 
either  are,  or  have  to  seem  to  be,  in  favor  of  this,  the  present  men 
acing  front  of  secession  proves  nothing  to  the  purpose.  Maryland 
and  Virginia  have  no  idea  of  breaking  up  the  Union;  but  they 
would  both  dearly  like  to  bully  the  North  into  a  compromise. 
Their  secession  demonstrations  prove  just  this,  and  nothing  more." 

In  the  same  article  he  said :  "  I  deny  to  one  State,  or  to  a  dozen 
different  States,  the  right  to  dissolve  this  Union.  It  can  only  be 
legally  dissolved  as  it  was  formed,  —  by  the  free  consent  of  all  the 
parties  concerned.  A  State  enters  the  Union  by  a  compact  to 
which  she  on  the  one  side,  and  a  constitutional  majority  in  the 
Federal  councils  on  the  other,  are  the  parties.  She  can  only  go 
out  by  like  concurrence  or  by  revolution.  It  is  anarchy  even  to 
admit  the  right  of  secession.  It  is  to  degrade  our  Union  into  a 
mere  alliance,  and  insure  its  speedy  ruin." 

As  late  as  the  day  of  the  inauguration  Mr.  Lincoln  expected  a 
peaceful  solution  of  our  difficulties,  and  expressed  this  opinion  in 
conversation  to  Mr.  G-reeley  and  other  friends. 

In  a  very  few  weeks,  however,  the  question  of  peace  or  war  was 
decided  in  Charleston  Harbor,  and  from  that  hour  the  Tribune 
gave  unreserved  and  most  able  support  to  the  suppression  of  the 
Rebellion  by  arms. 

The  battle  of  Bull  Run  nearly  cost  the  editor  of  the  Tribune  his 
life.  Some  of  the  more  ardent  spirits  in  the  office,  impatient  of 
delay,  kept  constantly  standing  on  the  editorial  page  a  paragraph 
like  this:  — 

THE  NATION'S  WAR-CRY. 

"Forward  to  Richmond!  Forward  to  Richmond!  The  Rebel 
Congress  must  not  be  allowed  to  meet  there  on  the  20th  July!  BY 
THAT  DATE  THE  PLACE  MUST  BE  HELD  BY  THE  NATIONAL 
ARMY ! " 

When  the  disaster  occurred,  so  unexpected  and  so  crushing,  Mr. 
Grreeley  was  almost  beside  himself  with  horror.  To  the  natural 
dread  of  war  and  bloodshed  which  every  civilized  being  feels,  and 
he  more  than  most,  was  added,  perhaps,  some  contrition  for  having 


TIIE    BATTLE    OF    BULL   RUN.  499 

permitted  the  paper  to  goad  the  government  into  an  advance  which 
events  showed  to  be  either  too  late  or  premature.  He  did  not, 
however,  decline  the  responsibility  attached  to  his  position.  "I 
wish,  "he  wrote,  July  25,  1861,  "to  be  distinctly  understood  as 
not  seeking  to  be  relieved  from  any  responsibility  for  urging  the 
advance  of  the  Union  Grand  Army  into  Virginia,  though  the  watch 
word  'Forward  to  Richmond'  was  not  mine,  and  I  would  have 
preferred  not  to  iterate  it.  I  thought  that  army,  one  hundred  thou 
sand  strong,  might  have  been  in  the  Rebel  capital  on  or  before  the 
20th  instant,  while  I  felt  sure  that  there  were  urgent  reasons  why 
it  should  be  there,  if  possible.  And  now,  if  any  one  imagines  that 
I,  or  any  one  connected  with  the  Tribune,  ever  commended  or  im 
agined  any  such  strategy  as  the  launching  barely  thirty  of  the  one 
hundred  thousand  Union  volunteers,  within  fifty  miles  of  Wash 
ington,  against  ninety  thousand  Rebels,  enveloped  in  a  labyrinth 
of  strong  intrenchments  and  unreconnoitred  masked  batteries,  then 
demonstration  would  be  lost  on  his  ear.  But  I  will  not  dwell  on 
this.  If  I  am  needed  as  a  scapegoat  for  all  the  military  blunders 
of  the  last  month,  so  be  it !  Individuals  must  die  that  the  Nation 
may  live.  If  I  can  serve  her  best  in  that  capacity,  I  do  not  shrink 
from  the  ordeal." 

He  retired  to  his  farm  a  few  days  after,  and  was  soon  prostrated 
by  an  attack  of  brain  fever,  and  for  six  weeks  was  scarcely  con 
scious  of  passing  events.  His  wonderful  constitution  has  never 
been  so  severely  tried,  and  he  narrowly  escaped  the  loss  of  his  life 
or  reason. 

Horace  Greeley  was  among  the  first  to  reach  the  conviction  that 
the  Rebellion  could  not  be  suppressed  without  the  aid  of  the  black 
man.  In  August,  1862,  after  the  defeat  of  General  McClellan  and 
his  retreat  from  the  Chickahominy,  he  addressed  a  letter  through 
the  Tribune  to  the  President,  entitled  "The  Prayer  of  Twenty 
Millions,"  which  urged  the  President  to  execute  the  law  which 
gave  freedom  to  the  slave  coming  within  our  lines,  and  to  enforce 
the  confiscation  act.  "We  must,"  said  he,  "have  scouts,  guides, 
spies,  cooks,  teamsters,  diggers,  and  choppers  from  the  blacks  of  the 
South,  —  whether  we  allow  them  to  fight  for  us  or  not,  —  or  we 
shall  be  baffled  and  repelled."  The  President,  thus  publicly  appealed 
to,  thought  proper  publicly  to  reply,  in  the  terms  following :  — 


500  DURING    THE    WAR. 

"  EXECUTIVE  MANSION,  WASHINGTON,  August  22,  1862. 

"  HON.  HORACE  GREELEY  :  — 

"DEAR  SIR:  —  I  have  just  read  yours  of  tke  19th,  addressed  to  myself 
through  the  New  York  Tribune.  If  there  be  in  it  any  statements  or  assump 
tions  of  fact  which  I  may  know  to  be  erroneous,  I  do  not  now  and  here  con 
trovert  them.  If  there  be  in  it  any  inferences  which  I  may  believe  to  be 
falsely  drawn,  I  do  not  now  and  here  argue  against  them.  If  there  be  percep 
tible  in  it  an  impatient  and  dictatorial  tone,  I  waive  it  in  deference  to  an  old 
friend,  whose  heart  I  have  always  supposed  to  be  right. 

"  As  to  the  policy  I '  seem  to  be  pursuing,'  as  you  say,  I  have  not  meant  to 
leave  any  one  in  doubt. 

"  I  would  save  the  Union.  I  would  save  it  the  shortest  way  under  the  Con 
stitution.  The  sooner  the  national  authority  can  be  restored,  the  nearer  the 
Union  will  be  '  the  Union  as  it  was.'  If  there  be  those  who  would  not  save 
the  Union  unless  they  could  at  the  same  time  save  slavery,  I  do  not  agree  with 
them.  If  there  be  those  who  would  not  save  the  Union  unless  they  could  at 
the  same  time  destroy  slavery,  I  do  not  agree  with  them.  My  paramount  ob 
ject  in  this  struggle  is  to  save  the  Union,  and  is  not  either  to  save  or  destroy 
slavery.  If  I  could  save  the  Union  without  freeing  any  slave  I  would  do  it; 
and  if  I  could  save  it  by  freeing  all  the  slaves,  I  would  do  it;  and  if  I  could  do 
it  by  freeing  some  and  leaving  others  alone,  I  would  also  do  that.  What  I  do 
about  slavery  and  the  colored  race,  I  do  because  I  believe  it  helps  to  save  this 
Union;  and  what  I  forbear,  I  forbear  because  I  do  not  believe  it  would  help  to 
save  the  Union.  I  shall  do  less  whenever  I  shall  believe  what  I  am  doing  hurts 
the  cause,  and  I  shall  do  more  whenever  I  shall  believe  doing  more  will  help 
the  cause.  I  shah1  try  to  correct  errors  when  shown  to  be  errors ;  and  I  shall 
adopt  new  views  so  fast  as  they  shall  appear  to  be  true  views.  I  have  here 
stated  my  purpose  according  to  my  view  of  official  duty,  and  I  intend  no  mod 
ification  of  my  oft-expressed  personal  wish  that  all  men,  everywhere,  could  be 

free. 

"  Tours,  A.  LINCOLN." 

To  this  letter  Mr.  Greeley  published  the  following  reply :  — 
"DEAR  SIR:  —  Although  I  did  not  anticipate  nor  seek  any  reply 
to  my  former  letter  unless  through  your  official  acts,  I  thank  you 
for  having  accorded  one,  since  it  enables  me  to  say  explicitly  that 
nothing  was  further  from  my  thought  than  to  impeach  in  any  man 
ner  the  sincerity  or  the  intensity  of  your  devotion  to  the  saving  of 
the  Union.  I  never  doubted,  and  have  no  friend  who  doubts,  that 
you  desire,  before  and  above  all  else,  to  re-establish  the  now  de 
rided  authority,  and  vindicate  the  territorial  integrity,  of  the  Re 
public.  I  intended  to  raise  only  this  question,  —  Do  you  propose  to 
do  this  by  recognizing,  obeying,  and  enforcing  the  laws,  or  by  ignoring, 
disregarding,  and  in  effect  defying  them  ? 


CORRESPONDENCE    WITH   PRESIDENT    LINCOLN.  501 

"  I  stand  upon  the  law  of  the  land.  The  humblest  has  a  clear 
right  to  invoke  its  protection  and  support  against  even  the  highest. 
That  law  —  in  strict  accordance  with  the  law  of  nations,  of  Nature, 
and  of  God  —  declares  that  every  traitor  now  engaged  in  the  infer 
nal  work  of  destroying  our  country  has  forfeited  thereby  all  claim 
or  color  of  right  lawfully  to  hold  human  beings  in  slavery.  I  ask 
of  you  a  clear  and  public  recognition  that  this  law  is  to  be  obeyed 
wherever  the  national  authority  is  respected.  I  cite  to  you  in 
stances  wherein  men  fleeing  from  bondage  to  traitors  to  the  pro 
tection  of  our  flag  have  been  assaulted,  wounded,  and  murdered  by 
soldiers  of  the  Union,  unpunished  and  unrebuked  by  your  General 
Commanding,  —  to  prove  that  it  is  your  duty  to  take  action  in  the 
premises,  —  action  that  will  cause  the  law  to  be  proclaimed  and 
obeyed  wherever  your  authority  or  that  of  the  Union  is  recognized 
as  paramount.  The  Rebellion  is  strengthened,  the  national  cause 
is  imperilled,  by  every  hour's  delay  to  strike  Treason  this  staggering 
blow. 

"  When  Fremont  proclaimed  freedom  to  the  slaves  of  rebels,  you 
constrained  him  to  modify  his  proclamation  into  rigid  accordance 
with  the  terms  of  the  existing  law.  It  was  your  clear  right  to  do 
so.  I  now  ask  of  you  conformity  to  the  principle  so  sternly  en 
forced  upon  him.  I  ask  you  to  instruct  your  generals  and  com 
modores,  that  no  loyal  person  —  certainly  none  willing  to  render 
service  to  the  national  cause  —  is  henceforth  to  be  regarded  as  the 
slave  of  any  traitor.  While  no  rightful  government  was  ever  be 
fore  assailed  by  so  wanton  and  wicked  a  rebellion  as  that  of  the 
slaveholders  against  our  national  life,  I  am  sure  none  ever  before 
hesitated  at  so  simple  and  primary  an  act  of  self-defence,  as  to  re 
lieve  those  who  would  serve  and  save  it  from  chattel  servitude  to 
those  who  are  wading  through  seas  of  blood  to  subvert  and  destroy 
it.  Future  generations  will  with  difficulty  realize  that  there  could 
have  been  hesitation  on  this  point.  Sixty  years  of  general  and 
boundless  subserviency  to  the  slave  power  do  not  adequately  ex 
plain  it. 

"  Mr.  President,  I  beseech  you  to  open  your  eyes  to  the  fact  that 
the  devotees  of  slavery  everywhere  — just  as  much  in  Maryland  as 
in  Mississippi,  in  Washington  as  in  Richmond  — are  to-day  your 
enemies,  and  the  implacable  foes  of  every  effort  to  re-establish  the 
national  authority  by  the  discomfiture  of  its  assailants.  Their 


502  DURIXG   THE   WAR. 

President  is  not  Abraham  Lincoln,  but  Jefferson  Davis.  You  may 
draft  them  to  serve  in  the  war ;  but  they  will  only  fight  under  the 
Rebel  flag.  There  is  not  in  New  York  to-day  a  man  who  really 
believes  in  slavery,  lovea  it,  and  desires  its  perpetuation,  who 
heartily  desires  the  crushing  out  of  the  Rebellion.  He  would  much 
rather  save  the  Republic  by  buying  up  and  pensioning  off  its  assail 
ants.  His  '  Union  as  it  was '  is  a  Union  of  which  you  were  not 
President,  and  no  one  who  truly  wished  freedom  to  all  ever 
could  be. 

"  If  these  are  truths,  Mr.  President,  they  are  surely  of  the  gravest 
importance.  You  cannot  safely  approach  the  great  and  good  end 
you  so  intently  meditate  by  shutting  your  eyes  to  them.  Your 
deadly  foe  is  not  blinded  by  any  mist  in  which  your  eyes  may  be 
enveloped.  He  walks  straight  to  his  goal,  knowing  well  his  weak 
point,  and  most  unwillingly  betraying  his  fear  that  you  too  may  see 
and  take  advantage  of  it.  God  grant  that  his  apprehension  may 
prove  prophetic ! 

"  That  you  may  not  unseasonably  perceive  these  vital  truths  as 
they  will  shine  forth  on  the  pages  of  history,  —  that  they  may  be 
read  by  our  children  irradiated  by  the  glory  of  our  national  salva 
tion,  not  rendered  lurid  by  the  blood-red  glow  of  national  confla 
gration  and  ruin,  —  that  you  may  promptly  and  practically  realize 
that  slavery  is  to  be  vanquished  only  by  liberty,  —  is  the  fervent 
and  anxious  prayer  of 

"  Yours  truly, 

"HORACE  GREELEY. 

"NEW  YORK,  August  24,  1862." 

Twenty-nine  days  after  the  date  of  this  reply  the  Proclamation 
of  Emancipation  was  issued.  I  do  not  believe  that  before  its  ap 
pearance  Mr.  Greeley  ever  had  any  comfortable  assurance  that  the 
United  States  would  triumph  over  its  enemies ;  but  from  that  day 
he  was  generally  confident  of  a  favorable  issue.  A  day  or  two  after 
the  Proclamation  was  published  I  met  him  in  Broadway,  his  coun 
tenance  beaming  with  exultation,  and  he  expressed  in  the  strongest 
language  his  conviction  that  the  ultimate  triumph  of  the  nation  was 
certain. 

Mr.  Greeley's  efforts  for  the  restoration  of  peace  are  well  remem 
bered.  He  was  first  addressed  on  this  subject  in  December,  1862, 
and  he  thus  relates  the  circumstances. 


CORRESPONDENCE    WITH    PRESIDENT   LINCOLN.  503 

"We  were  approached,"  he  says,  "by  parties  favorable  to  peace, 
and  entreated  to  contribute  to  its  attainment.  Having  always  been 
most'  anxious  for  the  earliest  possible  peace  consistent  with  fidelity 
to  those  hopes  for  humanity  which  are  bound  up  in  the  life  of  the 
American  Republic,  we  listened  to  the  appeal,  and  resolved  to  do 
our  utmost  toward  the  achievement  of  a  tolerable  peace.  To  that 
end  we  labored  faithfully  so  long  as  any  hope  of  attaining  it  re 
mained,  willing  to  brave  the  anger  and  alienation  of  valued  friends 
if  we  might,  at  whatever  personal  cost,  contribute  to  an  early  con 
clusion  of  this  desolating  war.  A  private  letter,  which  we  wrote 
at  that  time  by  his  request,  to  the  most  active  agitator  for  peace, 
having  been  given  to  the  public  by  him,  most  unwarrantably,  has 
been  widely  quoted  by  our  political  and  personal  adversaries  as 
evincing  an  undue  anxiety  for  peace.  It  is  as  follows :  — 

" '  NEW  YORK,  January  2,  1863. 
"' W.  C.  JEWETT,  ESQ.,  Washington,  D.  C.:~ 

" '  DEAR  SIR  :  —  In  whatever  you  may  do  to  restore  peace  to  our  distracted 
country,  bear  these  things  in  mind :  — 

" '  1.  Whatever  action  is  taken  must  be  between  the  government  of  the 
United  States  and  the  accredited  authorities  of  the  Confederates.  There  mast 
be  no  negotiations  or  conditions  between  unofficial  persons.  All  you  can  do 
is  to  render  authorized  negotiations  possible  by  opening  a  way  for  them. 

" '  2.  In  such  negotiations  our  government  cannot  act  without  a  trusted 
though  informal  assurance  that  the  Confederates  have  taken  the  initiative. 
The  rupture  originated  with  them ;  they  must  evince  a  preliminary  willing 
ness  to  make  peace ;  and,  on  being  assured  that  this  is  reciprocated,  they  must 
initiate  the  formal  proposition. 

" '  3.  If  arbitration  shall  be  resorted  to,  these  conditions  must  be  respected : 
First.  The  arbiter  must  be  a  power  which  has  evinced  no  partiality  or  un 
friendliness  to  either  party.  Second.  One  that  has  no  interest  in  the  partition 
or  downfall  of  our  country.  Third.  One  that  does  not  desire  the  failure  of  the 
republican  principle  in  government.  Great  Britain  and  France  are  necessarily 
excluded  by  their  having  virtually  confessed  their  wishes  that  we  should  be 
divided ;  and  Louis  Napoleon  has  an  especial  interest  in  proving  republics  im 
practicable.  For  if  the  republican  is  a  legitimate,  beneficent  form  of  govern 
ment,  what  must  be  the  verdict  of  history  on  the  destroyer  of  the  French 
Republic  ? 

" 4  You  will  find,  I  think,  no  hearty  supporter  of  the  Union  who  will  agree 
that  our  government  shall  act  in  the  premises,  except  on  a  frank,  open  propo 
sition  from  the  Confederates,  proposing  arbitration  by  a  friendly  power  or 
powers.  I  can  consider  no  man  a  friend  of  the  Union  who  makes  a  parade 
of  peace  propositions  or  peace  agitation  prior  to  such  action. 

"'Yours, 

" '  HORACE  GREELEY.' 


504  DURING   THE    WAR. 

"Mr.  Jewett,  in  pursuance  of  the  above,  did  his  best,  whatever 
that  may  be,  to  discover,  through  their  friends  in  the  loyal  States 
and  in  the  Federal  District,  what  the  Rebels  would  do  toward 
peace  ;  but  to  no  purpose.  No  word  of  conciliation  or  arbitration 
could  be  evoked  from  that  side.  They  wanted  peace  of  course  ;  but 
peace  by  surrender  on  our  side,  by  disunion,  by  the  giving  up  to 
them  not  only  of  all  they  have,  but  of  all  they  want,  including  a 
great  deal  that  they  have  not  and  some  that  they  never  had.  In 
other  words,  having  appealed  from  the  ballot-box  and  the  rostrum 
to  the  bayonet  and  the  sword,  they  purposed  to  end  the  struggle 
as  they  had  begun  it,  bidding  the  hardest  fend  off  and  the  weaker 
go  to  the  wall.  And  we,  after  weeks  of  earnest  pursuit  of  some 
endurable  peace  proposition  from  the  Rebels,  were  obliged  to  give 
it  up,  without  having  come  in  sight  of  any  Rebel  proposition  at  all. 
And  we  are  thus  justified  in  our  conviction  that  there  never  was 
any  conciliatory  project,  authorized  by  the  Rebel  chiefs,  that  they 
chose  to  submit  to  the  judgment  even  of  the  most  ardent  champions 
of  peace  in  the  loyal  States." 

In  July,  1864,  Mr.  Jewett  renewed  his  endeavors,  which  induced 
Mr.  Greeley  to  address  the  following  letter  to  the  President  :  — 

HORACE  GREELEY  TO  PRESIDENT  LINCOLN. 


YORK,  July  7,  1864. 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR  :  —  I  venture  to  enclose  you  a  letter  and  tele 
graphic  despatch  that  I  received  yesterday  from  our  irrepressible 
friend,  Colorado  Jewett,  at  Niagara  Falls.  I  think  they  deserve 
attention.  Of  course,  I  do  not  indorse  Jewett's  positive  averment 
that  his  friends  at  the  Falls  have  '  full  powers  '  from  J.  D.  [Jefferson 
Davis],  though  I  do  not  doubt  that  he  thinks  they  have.  I  let  that 
statement  stand  as  simply  evidencing  the  anxiety  of  the  Confed 
erates  everywhere  for  peace.  So  much  is  beyond  doubt. 

"And,  therefore,  I  venture  to  remind  you  that  our  bleeding, 
bankrupt,  almost  dying  country  also  longs  for  peace,  —  shudders  at 
the  prospect  of  fresh  conscriptions,  of  further  wholesale  devasta 
tions,  and  of  new  rivers  of  human  blood;  and  a  wide-spread  con 
viction  that  the  government  and  its  prominent  supporters  are  not 
anxious  for  peace,  and  do  not  improve  proffered  opportunities  to 
achieve  it,  is  doing  great  harm  now,  arid  is  morally  certain,  unless 
removed,  to  do  far  greater  in  the  approaching  elections. 


CORRESPONDENCE    WITH   PRESIDENT    LINCOLN.  505 

"  It  is  not  enough  that  we  anxiously  desire  a  true  and  lasting 
peace;  we  ought  to  demonstrate  and  establish  the  truth  beyond 
cavil  The  fact  that  A.  H.  Stephens  was  not  permitted  a  year  ago 
to  visit  and  confer  with  the  authorities  at  Washington  has  done 
harm,  which  the  tone  of  the  late  National  Convention  at  Baltimore 
is  not  calculated  to  counteract. 

"  I  entreat  you,  in  your  own  time  and  manner,  to  submit  over 
tures  for  pacification  to  the  Southern  insurgents,  which  the  impar 
tial  must  pronounce  frank  and  generous.  If  only  with  a  view  to 
the  momentous  election  soon  to  occur  in  North  Carolina,  and  of  the 
draft  to  be  enforced  in  the  Free  States,  this  should  be  done  at  once. 
I  would  give  the  safe-conduct  required  by  the  Rebel  envoys  at 
Niagara,  upon  their  parole  to  avoid  observation,  and  to  refrain  from 
all  communication  with  their  sympathizers  in  the  loyal  States ;  but 
you  may  see  reasons  for  declining  it.  But  whether  through  them 
or  otherwise,  do  not,  I  entreat  you,  fail  to  make  the  Southern  peo 
ple  comprehend  that  you,  and  all  of  us,  are  anxious  for  peace,  and 
prepared  to  grant  liberal  terms.  I  venture  to  suggest  the  following 

"PLAN  OF  ADJUSTMENT. 

"  1.   The  Union  is  restored  and  declared  perpetual 
"  2.   Slavery  is  utterly  and  forever  abolished  throughout  the  same, 
"  3.   A  complete  amnesty  for  all  political  offences,  with  a  resto 
ration  of  all  the  inhabitants  of  each  State  to  all  the  privileges  of  cit 
izens  of  the  United  States. 

"  4.  The  Union  to  pay  four  hundred  million  dollars  ($  400,000,- 
000),  in  five-per-cent  United  States  stock,  to  the  late  Slave  States, 
loyal  and  secession  alike,  to  be  apportioned  pro  rata,  according  to 
their  slave  population  respectively,  by  the  census  of  1860,  in  com 
pensation  for  the  losses  of  their  loyal  citizens  by  the  abolition  of 
slavery.  Each  State  to  be  entitled  to  its  quota  upon  the  ratifica 
tion  by  its  legislature  of  this  adjustment.  The  bonds  to  be  at  the 
absolute  disposal  of  the  legislature  aforesaid. 

"  5.  The  said  Slave  States  to  be  entitled  henceforth  to  represen 
tation  in  the  House  on  the  basis  of  their  total,  instead  of  their  Fed 
eral  population,  the  whole  now  being  free. 

"6.   A  national  convention  to  be  assembled  so  soon  as  may  be, 
to  ratify  this  adjustment,  and  make  such  changes  in  the  Constitu 
tion  as  may  be  deemed  advisable. 
22 


50 G  DURING   THE    WAR. 

"  Mr.  President,  I  fear  you  do  not  realize  how  intently  the  people 
desire  any  peace  consistent  with  the  national  integrity  and  honor, 
and  how  joyously  they  would  hail  its  achievement,  and  bless  its 
authors.  With  United  States  stocks  worth  but  forty  cents  in  gold 
per  dollar,  and  drafting  about  to  commence  on  the  third  million  of 
Union  soldiers,  can  this  be  wondered  at? 

"  I  do  not  say  that  a  just  peace  is  now  attainable,  though  I  be 
lieve  it  to  be  so.  But  I  do  say  that  a  frank  offer  by  you  to  the 
insurgents,  of  terms  which  the  impartial  world  say  ought  to  be  ac 
cepted,  will,  at  the  worst,  prove  an  immense  and  sorely  needed 
advantage  to  the  national  cause.  It  may  save  us  from  a  Northern 
insurrection. 

"  Yours  truly,  HORACE  GREELET. 

"  HON.  A.  LINCOLN,  President,  Washington,  D.  C. 

"P.  S.  —  Even  though  it  should  be  deemed  unadvisable  to  make 
an  offer  of  terms  to  the  Rebels,  I  insist  that,  in  any  possible  case, 
it  is  desirable  that  any  offer  they  may  be  disposed  to  make  should 
be  received,  and  either  accepted  or  rejected.  I  beg  you  to  invite 
those  now  at  Niagara  to  exhibit  their  credentials  and  submit  their 
ultimatum.  H.  G." 

Upon  the  receipt  of  this  letter  the  President  requested  Mr.  Gree- 
ley  to  repair  to  Niagara  Falls,  and  converse  with  the  supposed  Con 
federate  commissioners.  He  most  reluctantly  complied  with  this 
request,  and  at  Niagara  the  following  correspondence  occurred. 

GEORGE  N.  SANDERS  TO  HORACE  GREELEY. 
"  [Private  and  confidential.] 

"  CLIFTON  HOUSE,  NIAGARA  FALLS, 

Canada  West,  July  12, 1864. 

*DEAR  SIR: — I  am  authorized  to  say  that  the  Honorable  Clement  C.  Clay 
of  Alabama,  Professor  James  P.  Holcombe  of  Virginia,  and  George  N.  Sanders 
of  Dixie,  are  ready  and  willing  to  go  at  once  to  Washington,  npon  complete 
and  unqualified  protection  being  given  either  by  the  President  or  Secretary 
of  War.  Let  the  permission  include  the  three  names  and  one  other. 
"  Very  respectfully, 

"GEORGE  N.  SANI>ERS." 

HORACE  GREELEY  TO  MESSRS.  CLEMENT  C.  CLAY,  AND  OTHERS. 

u  NIAGARA  FALLS,  N.  Y.,  July  17, 1864. 

"GENTLEMEN: — I  am  informed  that  you  are  duly  accredited  from 
Richmond,  as  the  bearers  of  propositions  looking  to  the  establish- 


PEACE   NEGOTIATIONS.  507 

ment  of  peace ;  that  you  desire  to  visit  Washington  in  the  fulfil 
ment  of  your  mission,  and  that  you  further  desire  that  Mr.  George 
"N.  Sanders  shall  accompany  you.  If  my  information  be  thus  far 
substantially  correct,  I  am  authorized  by  the  President  of  the 
United  States  to  tender  you  his  safe-conduct  on  the  journey  pro 
posed,  and  to  accompany  you  at  the  earliest  time  that  will  be 
agreeable  to  you. 

"  I  have  the  honor  to  be,  gentlemen,  yours, 

"HORACE  GREELEY. 

"To  MESSRS.  CLEMENT  C.  CLAY,  JACOB  THOMPSON,  JAMES  P.  HOL- 
COMBE,  Clifton  House,  C.  W." 

MESSRS.  CLAY  AND  HOLCOMBE  TO  HORACE  GREELEY. 
"  CLIFTON  HOUSE,  NIAGARA  FALLS,  July  18, 1864. 

"  SIR:  —  We  have  the  honor  to  acknowledge  your  favor  of  the  17th  instant, 
which  would  have  been  answered  on  yesterday,  but  for  the  absence  of  Mr. 
Clay.  The  safe-conduct  of  the  President  of  the  United  States  has  been  ten 
dered  us,  we  regret  to  state,  under  some  misapprehension  of  facts.  We  have 
not  been  accredited  to  him  from  Richmond  as  the  bearers  of  propositions  look 
ing  to  the  establishment  of  peace. 

"  We  are,  however,  in  the  confidential  employment  of  eur  government,  and 
are  entirely  familiar  with  its  wishes  and  opinions  on  that  subject;  and  we 
feel  authorized  to  declare  that,  if  the  circumstances  disclosed  in  this  corre 
spondence  were  communicated  to  Richmond,  we  would  be  at  once  invested 
with  the  authority  to  which  your  letter  refers,  or  other  gentlemen  clothed  with 
full  powers  would  be  immediately  sent  to  Washington,  with  the  view  of  has 
tening  a  consummation  so  much  to  be  desired,  and  terminating  at  the  earliest 
possible  moment  the  calamities  of  the  war. 

"  We  respectfully  solicit,  through  your  intervention,  a  safe-conduct  to  Wash 
ington,  and  thence  by  any  route  which  may  be  designated,  through  your  lines 
to  Richmond.  We  would  be  gratified  if  Mr.  George  N.  Sanders  was  embraced 
in  this  privilege.  Permit  us,  in  conclusion,  to  acknowledge  our  obligations  to 
you  for  the  interest  you  have  manifested  in  the  furtherance  of  our  wishes,  and 
to  express  the  hope  that,  in  any  event,  you  will  afford  us  the  opportunity  of 
tendering  them  in  person  before  you  leave  the  Falls. 

"  We  remain,  very  respectfully,  &c., 

"  C.  C.  CLAY,  JR. 
J.  P.  HOLCOMBE. 

"P.  S.  —  It  is  proper  to  add  that  Mr.  Thompson  is  not  here,  and  has  not 
been  staying  with  us  since  our  sojourn  in  Canada." 


508  DURING  THE  WAR. 

HORACE  GREELEY  TO  MESSRS.  CLAY  AND  HOLCOMBE. 

"  INTERNATIONAL,  HOTEL,  NIAGARA,  N.  Y.,  July  18, 1864. 
"GENTLEMEN: —  I  have  the  honor  to  acknowledge  the  receipt  of 
yours  of  this  date,  by  the  hand  of  Mr.  W.  0.  Jewett.  The  state  of 
facts  therein  presented  being  materially  different  from  that  which 
was  understood  to  exist  by  the  President,  when  he  intrusted  me 
with  the  safe-conduct  required,  it  seems  to  me  on  every  account 
advisable  that  I  should  communicate  with  him  by  telegraph,  and 
solicit  fresh  instructions,  which  I  shall  at  once  proceed  to  do. 

"  I  hope  to  be  able  to  transmit  the  result  this  afternoon,  and,  at 
all  events,  I  shall  do  so  at  the  earliest  moment. 
"Yours  truly, 

"  HORACE  GREELEY. 

"To  MESSRS.  CLEMENT  C.  CLAY  and  JAMES  P.  HOLCOMBE,  Clifton 
House,  C.  W." 

MESSRS.  CLAY  AND  HOLCOMBE  TO  HORACE  GREELEY. 

"  CLIFTON  HOUSE,  NIAGARA  FALLS,  July  18. 1864. 
"  To  the  HONORABLE  H.  GREELEY,  Niagara  Falls,  N.  Y. :  — 

"  SIR:  —  We  have  the  honor  to  acknowledge  the  receipt  of  your  note  of  this 
date,  by  the  hands  of  Colonel  Jewett,  and  will  await  the  further  answer  which 
you  purpose  to  send  to  us. 

"  We  are,  very  respectfully,  &c., 

"C.  C.  CLAY,  JR. 
JAMES  P.  HOLCOMBE." 

HORACE  GREELEY  TO  MESSRS.  CLAY  AND  HOLCOMBE. 

"INTERNATIONAL  HOTEL,  NIAGARA  FALLS,  N.  Y.,  July  19, 1864. 
"GENTLEMEN:  —  At  a  late  hour  last  evening  (too  late  for  com 
munication  with  you)  I  received  a  despatch  informing  me  that 
further  instructions  left  Washington  last  evening,  which  must 
reach  me,  if  there  be  no  interruption,  at  noon  to-morrow.  Should 
you  decide  to  await  their  arrival,  I  feel  confident  that  they  will 
enable  me  to  answer  definitely  your  note  of  yesterday  morning. 
Regretting  a  delay,  which  I  am  sure  you  will  regard  as  unavoid 
able  on  my  part, 

"  I  remain,  yours  truly, 

"HORACE  GTREELEY. 

"  To  the  HONORABLE  MESSRS.  C.  C.  CLAY,  JR.,  and  J.  P.  HOLCOMBE, 
Clifton  House,  Niagara,  C.  W." 


PEACE  NEGOTIATIONS.  509 

MESSRS.  CLAY  AND  HOLCOMBE  TO  HORACE  GREELEY. 

"  CLIFTON  HOUSE,  NIAGARA  FALLS,  July  19, 1864. 

"  SIR:  —  Colonel  Jewett  has  just  handed  us  your  note  of  this  date,  in  which 
you  state  that  further  instructions  from  Washington  will  reach  you  by  noon 
to-morrow,  if  there  be  no  interruption.  One,  or  possibly  both  of  us,  may  be 
obliged  to  leave  the  Falls  to-day,  but  will  return  in  time  to  receive  the  com 
munication  which  you  promise  to-morrow. 

"  We  remain  truly  yours,  &c., 

"  JAMES  P.  HOLCOMBE. 

C.  C.  CLAY,  JB. 
"  To  the  HONORABLE  HORACE  GREELEY,  now  at  the  International  Hotel." 

MESSRS.  CLAY  AND  HOLCOMBE  TO  M.  C.  JEWETT. 

"  CLIFTON  HOUSE,  NIAGARA  FALLS, 

Wednesday,  July  20, 1864. 
"COLONEL  M.  C.  JEWETT,  Cataract  House,  Niagara  Falls:  — 

"  SIR  :  — We  are  in  receipt  of  your  note,  admonishing  us  of  the  departure  of 
the  Honorable  Horace  Greeley  from  the  Falls ;  that  he  regrets  the  sad  termi 
nation  of  the  initiatory  steps  taken  for  peace,  in  consequence  of  the  change 
made  by  the  President  in  his  instructions  to  convey  commissioners  to  Wash 
ington  for  negotiations,  unconditionally,  and  that  Mr.  Greeley  will  be  pleased 
to  receive  any  answer  we  may  have  to  make  through  you. 

"  We  avail  ourselves  of  this  offer  to  enclose  a  letter  to  Mr.  Greeley,  which 
you  will  oblige  us  by  delivering.  We  cannot  take  leave  of  you  without  ex 
pressing  our  thanks  for  your  courtesy  and  kind  offices  as  the  intermediary 
through  whom  our  correspondence  with  Mr.  Greeley  has  been  conducted,  and 
assuring  you  that  we  are,  very  respectfully, 

"  Your  obedient  servants, 

"  C.  C.  CLAY,  JR. 
JAMES  P.  HOLCOMBE." 

MESSRS.  CLAY  AND  HOLCOMBE  TO  HORACE  GREELEY. 

"  NIAGARA  FALLS,  CLIFTON  HOUSE,  July  21,  1864. 
To  the  HONORABLE  HORACE  GREELEY  :  — 

"  SIR  :  —  The  paper  handed  to  Mr.  Holcombe  on  yesterday,  in  your  presence, 
by  Major  Hay,  A.  A.  G.,  as  an  answer  to  the  application  in  our  note  of  the 
18th  instant,  is  couched  in  the  following  terms :  — 

"'EXECUTIVE  MANSION,  WASHINGTON,  D.  C.,  July  18, 1864. 
" '  To  whom  it  may  concern :  — 

" '  Any  proposition  which  embraces  the  restoration  of  peace,  the  integrity 
of  the  whole  Union,  and  the  abandonment  of  slavery,  and  which  comes  by 
and  with  an  authority  that  can  control  the  armies  now  at  war  against  the 
United  States,  will  be  received  and  considered  by  the  Executive  Government 
of  the  United  States,  and  will  be  met  by  liberal  terms,  on  other  substantial 
and  collateral  points,  and  the  bearer  or  bearers  thereof  shall  have  safe-conduct 
both  ways. 

•  -  " '  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN.' 


510  DURING   THE   WAR. 

"  The  application  to  which  we  refer  was  elicited  by  your  letter  of  the  17th 
instant,  in  which  you  inform  Mr.  Jacob  Thompson  and  ourselves  that  you 
were  authorized  by  the  President  of  the  United  States  to  tender  us  his  safe- 
conduct,  on  the  hypothesis  that  we  were  '  duly  accredited  from  Richmond  as 
bearers  of  propositions  looking  to  the  establishment  of  peace,'  and  desired  a 
visit  to  Washington  in  the  fulfilment  of  this  mission.  This  assertion,  to  which 
we  then  gave  and  still  do,  entire  credence,  was  accepted  by  us  as  the  evidence 
of  an  unexpected  but  most  gratifying  change  in  the  policy  of  the  President,  — 
a  change  which  we  felt  authorized  to  hope  might  terminate  in  the  conclusion 
of  a  peace  mutually  just,  honorable,  and  advantageous  to  the  North  and  to  the 
South,  exacting  no  condition  but  that  we  should  be  '  duly  accredited  from  Rich 
mond  as  bearers  of  propositions  looking  to  the  establishment  of  peace.'  Thus 
proffering  a  basis  for  conference  as  comprehensive  as  we  could  desire,  it  seemed 
to  us  that  the  President  opened  a  door  which  had  previously  been  closed  against 
the  Confedei-ate  States  for  a  full  interchange  of  sentiments,  free  discussion  of 
conflicting  opinions,  and  untrammelled  effort  to  remove  all  causes  of  contro 
versy  by  liberal  negotiations.  We,  indeed,  could  not  claim  the  benefit  of  a  safe- 
conduct  which  had  been  extended  to  us  in  a  character  we  had  no  right  to  assume, 
and  had  never  affected  to  possess ;  but  the  uniform  declarations  of  our  Execu 
tive  and  Congress,  and  then  thrice-repeated  and  as  often  repulsed  attempts  to 
open  negotiations,  furnish  a  sufficient  pledge  to  us  that  this  conciliatory  mani 
festation  on  the  part  of  the  President  of  the  United  States  would  be  met  by 
them  in  a  temper  of  equal  magnanimity.  We  had.  therefore,  no  hesitation  in 
declaring  that  if  this  correspondence  was  communicated  to  the  President  of 
the  Confederate  States,  he  would  promptly  embrace  the  opportunity  presented 
for  seeking  a  peaceful  solution  of  this  unhappy  strife.  We  feel  confident  that 
you  must  share  our  profound  regret  that  the  spirit  which  dictated  the  first  step 
toward  peace  had  not  continued  to  animate  the  councils  of  your  President. 
Had  the  representatives  of  the  two  governments  met  to  consider  this  question, 
the  most  momentous  ever  submitted  to  human  statesmanship,  in  a  temper  of 
becoming  moderation  and  equity,  followed,  as  their  deliberations  would  have 
been,  by  the  prayers  and  benedictions  of  every  patriot  and  Christian  on  the 
habitable  globe,  who  is  there  so  bold  as  to  pronounce  that  the  frightful  waste 
of  individual  happiness  and  public  prosperity  which  is  daily  saddening  the 
universal  heart  might  not  have  been  terminated,  or  if  the  desolation  and  car 
nage  of  war  must  still  be  endured  through  weary  years  of  blood  and  suffering, 
that  there  might  not  at  least  have  been  infused  into  its  conduct  something 
more  of  the  spirit  which  softens  and  partially  redeems  its  brutalities  ? 

"  Instead  of  the  safe-conduct  which  we  solicited,  and  which  your  first  letter 
gave  us  every  reason  to  suppose  would  be  extended  for  the  purpose  of  initiat 
ing  a  negotiation,  in  which  neither  government  would  compromise  its  rights 
or  its  dignity,  a  document  has  been  presented  which  provokes  as  much  indig 
nation  as  surprise.  It  bears  no  feature  of  resemblance  to  that  which  was  origi 
nally  offered,  and  is  unlike  any  paper  which  ever  before  emanated  from  the 
constitutional  executive  of  a  free  people.  Addressed  '  to  whom  it  may  con 
cern,'  it  precludes  negotiations,  and  pi-escribes  in  advance  the  terms  and  con- 


PEACE   NEGOTIATIONS.  511 

ditions  of  peace.  It  returns  to  the  original  policy  of  *  no  bargaining,  no  negotia 
tions,  no  truces  with  Rebels  except  to  bury  their  dead,  until  every  man  shall 
have  laid  down  his  arms,  submitted  to  the  government,  and  sued  for  mercy.' 

"  Whatever  may  be  the  explanation  of  this  sudden  and  entire  change  in  the 
views  of  the  President,  of  this  rude  withdrawal  of  a  courteous  overture  for 
negotiation  at  the  moment  it  was  likely  to  be  accepted,  of  this  emphatic  recall 
of  words  of  peace  just  uttered,  and  fresh  blasts  of  war  to  the  bitter  end,  we 
leave  for  the  speculation  of  those  who  have  the  means  or  inclination  to  pene 
trate  the  mysteries  of  his  cabinet,  or  fathom  the  caprice  of  his  imperial  will. 
It  is  enough  for  us  to  say  that  we  have  no  use  whatever  for  the  paper  which 
has  been  placed  in  our  hands. 

"  We  could  not  transmit  it  to  the  President  of  the  Confederate  States  with 
out  offering  him  an  indignity,  dishonoring  ourselves,  and  incurring  the  well- 
merited  scorn  of  our  countrymen.  While  an  ardent  desire  for  peace  pervades 
the  people  of  the  Confederate  States,  we  rejoice  to  believe  that  there  are  few, 
if  any,  among  them  who  would  purchase  it  at  the  expense  of  liberty,  honor, 
and  self-respect.  If  it  can  be  secured  only  by  their  submission  to  terms  of 
conquest,  the  generation  is  yet  unborn  which  will  witness  its  restitution. 

"  If  there  be  any  military  autocrat  in  the  North  who  is  entitled  to  proffer 
the  conditions  of  this  manifesto,  there  is  none  in  the  South  authorized  to  en 
tertain  them.  Those  who  control  our  armies  are  the  servants  of  the  people,  — 
not  their  masters;  and  they  have  no  more  inclination,  than  they  have  the 
right,  to  subvert  the  social  institutions  of  the  sovereign  States,  to  overthrow 
their  established  constitutions,  and  to  barter  away  their  priceless  heritage  of 
self-government.  This  correspondence  will  not,  however,  we  trust,  prove 
wholly  barren  of  good  result. 

"  If  there  is  any  citizen  of  the  Confederate  States  who  has  clung  to  a  hope 
that  peace  was  possible  with  this  administration  of  the  Federal  government, 
it  will  strip  from  his  eyes  the  last  film  of  such  delusion;  or  if  there  be  any 
whose  hearts  have  grown  faint  under  the  suffering  and  agony  of  this  bloody 
struggle,  it  will  inspire  them  with  fresh  energy  to  endure  and  brave  whatever 
may  yet  be  requisite  to  preserve  to  themselves  and  their  children  all  that  gives 
dignity  and  value  to  life  or  hope  and  consolation  to  death.  And  if  there  be 
any  patriots  or  Christians  in  your  land,  who  shrink  appalled  from  the  illimi 
table  vista  of  private  misery  and  public  calamity  which  stretches  before  them, 
we  pray  that  in  their  bosoms  a  resolution  may  be  quickened  to  recall  the 
abused  authority,  and  vindicate  the  outraged  civilization  of  their  country. 
For  the  solicitude  you  have  manifested  to  inaugurate  a  movement  which  con 
templates  results  the  most  noble  and  humane  we  return  our  sincere  thanks, 
and  are  most  respectfully  and  truly  your  obedient  servants, 

"  C.  C.  CLAY,  JR. 
JAMES  P.  HOLCOMBE." 

Mr.  Greeley  returned  to  New  York  little  pleased  with  the  results 
of  his  mission,  nor  satisfied  with  the  course  of  the  administration. 
He  experienced  the  truth  of  Dr.  Franklin's  remark,  that,  however 


512  DURING    THE   WAR. 

"  blessed  "  peacemakers  may  bo  in  another  world,  they  are  usually 
rewarded  with  curses  in  this.  Events  have  since  shown  that  there 
was  never  a  moment  during  the  war  when  the  Confederate  gov 
ernment  would  have  entertained  a  proposition  for  peace  on  any 
other  basis  than  that  of  separation. 

THE   TRIBUNE   OFFICE   ATTACKED    DURING   THE   DRAFT   RIOTS   OF   1863. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  war  there  was  a  slight  disturbance  in 
^Nassau  Street,  opposite  the  Herald  office,  in  consequence  of  the 
doubtful  position  of  the  Herald  with  regard  to  the  opening  con 
test.  Upon  the  exhibition  of  the  United  States  flag  from  one  of 
the  windows  of  the  Herald  building,  the  people  assembled  cheered 
the  flag,  and  soon  after  dispersed.  This  event  was  reported  in  the 
Tribune,  in  such  a  manner  as  to  suggest  the  inference  that  the 
Herald  cared  not  which  flag  floated  above  its  office,  that  of  the 
Union,  or  that  of  the  Rebellion,,  and  that  nothing  but  the  threats  of 
a  mob  determined  its  choice.  The  editor  of  the  Herald  took  deep 
offence  at  this  report,  and  seemed  to  be  resolved  to  wreak  upon  his 
neighbor  a  bloody  vengeance.  Almost  every  day,  for  the  next 
two  years,  an  article  or  a  paragraph  appeared  in  the  Herald,  hold 
ing  up  the  Tribune  and  its  editor  to  popular  execration,  denouncing 
them  as  the  authors  of  the  war,  and  intimating  that  the  time  would 
come  when  the  people  would  see  this.,  and  hang  the  editor  upon  a 
lamp-post.  Probably  two  hundred  articles  like  the  following  could 
be  collected  from  the  columns  of  the  Herald,  during  the  first  two 
years  of  the  war:  — 

u  This  crazy,  contemptible  wretch,  who  now  asserts  the  equality  of  white 
men  and  negroes,  formerly  asserted,  with  quite  as  much  persistency  and  fer 
vor,  that  all  men  should  have  property  in  common ;  that  all  persons  should 
live  in  common ;  that  all  women  should  be  common  prostitutes.  These  dam 
nable  doctrines,  under  the  names  of  Fourrieriteism,phalanxism,  and  free-Iove- 
ism,  Greeley  openly  professed  and  daily  advocated  in  his  Tribune.  One  by 
one  these  abominable  bantlings  of  his  have  been  strangled^  and  now  abolition 
ism —  which  is  a  part  of  the  same  accursed  brood  —  only  remains.  With  the 
others,  he  sought  to  break  up  all  society  and  to  abolish  the  institution  of  the 
family.  With  this  last  he  has  attempted  to  break  up  the  Union,  and  to  put 
white  men  and  black  upon  an  equality  in  everything.  With  the  other  isms 
he  did  much  harm,  and  debauched  many  innocent  people.  With  this  last,  he 
has  involved  us  in  a  civil  war,  and  sacrificed  thousands  of  valuable  lives.  Un 
doubtedly  Greeley's  abolitionism  will  finally  be  put  down,  as  his  other  isms 
have  been ;  but  at  what  a  terrible  cost  of  blood  and  treasure  will  this  be  ae- 


ASSAULT  UPON  THE  TRIBUNE  OFFICE.          513 

complished!  When  the  white  and  black  races  are  once  arrayed  against  each 
other,  one  of  them  will  be  exterminated.  To  that  point,  Greeley  and  his  tool, 
the  black  parson  Garnett,  are  fast  hastening  matters.  They  are  the  enemies 
of  both  the  white  and  black  races  alike ;  their  efforts  injure  the  negroes  as 
much  as  they  injure  the  white  people.  Sensible  persons  of  both  races  hate 
and  despise  them." 

The  following  may  serve  as  a  specimen  of  the  more  elaborate 
efforts  of  the  Herald  to  excite  odium  against  the  editor  of  the 
Tribune :  — 

"  Deliberately,  and  with  malice  prepense, '  that  horrible  monster  Greeley,' 
as  he  is  called  upon  the  floor  of  Congress,  has  instigated  this  dreadful  civil 
war  for  years  past,  and  carefully  nurtured  and  fostered  the  abolition  senti 
ment,  with  which  he  hoped  to  poison  and  kill  the  Republic.  Most  persons 
suppose  that  a  desire  for  gain  has  rendered  him  insane,  and  that  visions  of 
rich  plantations,  confiscated  from  slaveholders  and  bestowed  upon  him,  have 
tempted  him  on  in  his  ruinous  path.  Others  regard  him  as  one  possessed  of  a 
devil.  Others  still  are  of  opinion  that  he  is  in  his  senses,  and  is  only  a  bad  mau 
made  worse-  by  cupidity  and  disappointment.  We  do  not  pretend  to  decide 
which  of  these  theories  be  correct;  but  it  is  certain  that  until  recently  he  has 
made  but  very  little  money  by  his  wickedness.  Like  the  magician's  gold,  all 
of  his  ill-gotten  gains  brought  him  ruin.  He  acknowledged  in  his  Tribune  that 
he  had  lost  money  by  the  publication  of  his  paper  last  year,  and  he  wrote 
penny-a-line  articles  for  weekly  papers  in  order  to  make  a  living.  The  publi 
cation  was  continued,  therefore,  only  that  the  paper  might  be  used  to  secure 
offices  and  contracts.  It  has  now  no  circulation  and  less  advertising,  and 
lives  only  by  illegitimate  aid.  Its  fruit  is  blood  and  spoils.  Sam  Wilkeson  of 
the  Tribune  acknowledged  that  he  had  kept  a  Tribune  contract  bureau  at 
Washington.  The  official  correspondence  of  Secretary  of  War  Cameron  shows 
that  the  Tribune  Association  has  gun  contracts.  In  the  following  tables  we 
have  collected  some  of  the  items  of  expenditure  in  treasure  and  blood  for 
which  the  country  is  indebted  to  the  Tribune :  — 

"  GOVERNMENT  OF  THE   UNITED   STATES  IN  ACCOUNT  WITH   NEW   YORK 

TRIBUNE.  Dt\ 

To  a  civil  war,  fomented  by  Tribune  abolitionists,  costing  the  country 
in  crisis,  ruined  commerce,  suspended  manufactures,  army  expenses, 

losses  in  trade,  &c.,  about $2,000,000,000.00 

To  the  loss  of  Fort  Sumter,  and  the  failure  of  the  expedition  for  the  re 
lief,  caused  by  the  revelations  of  Harvey,  the  Tribune's  Washing 
ton  correspondent  2,000,000.00 

To  losses  at  the  battle  of  Bull  Run,  caused  by  the  Tribune's  « Onward 
to  Richmond1  articles,  amounting,  according  to  Thurlow  Weed, 

to  about 100,000,000.00 

To  delays,  extra  expenses,  &c.,  caused  by  the  Tribune's  assaults  upon 

General  McClellan,  say 200,000,000.00 

22*  CG 


514 


DURING    THE    WAR. 


To  the  abolition  campaign  of  Fremont  in  Missouri,  including  mule, 

blanket,  and  musket  contracte $50,000,000.00 

To  Banks's  disaster,  caused  by  the  Tribune  abolitionists  and  their  in 
trigues  against  McCleilan 10,000,000.00 

To  various  emancipation  schemes,  darkey  schools,  nigger  conservatories 
at  Beaufort,  and  General  Hunter's  squashed  proclamation,  includ 
ing  expenditures  for  red  trousers,  and  Tribune  muskets  .        .        .  5,000,000.00 
To  daily  attacks  upon  the  administration  and  the  army,  encouraging 

the  Rebels  and  weakening  the  Union  cause,  say        ....        100,000,000.00 
To  a  contract  for  25,000  muskets,  obtained  by  the  Tribune  Gun  Associ 
ation,  and  sub-let  to  outside  parties 625,000.00 

To  a  second  contract  for  40,000  muskets,  sub-let  as  above .        .        .  600,000.00 

To  Greeley's  pay,  franking,  pickings,  books,  and  mileage,  while  in 

Congress 5,000.00 

To  salary  of  Harvey,  of  the  Tribune,  Minister  to  Portugal,  four  years  80,000.00 

To  salary  of  Pike,  of  the  Tribune,  Minister  to  the  Netherlands,  four 

years 30,000.00 

To  salary  of  Hildreth,  of  the  Tribune,  Consul  at  Trieste,  four  years  3,000.00 

To  salary  of  Fry,  of  the  Tribune,  Secretary  of  Legation  at  Sardinia      .  7,200.00 

To  salary  of  Bayard  Taylor,  of  the  Tribune,  Secretary  of  Legation  at 

St.  Petersburg 7,200.00 

To  profit  on  various  jobs  and  contracts  of  Camp,  stockholder  of  the 

Tribune 500,000.00 

To  profit  of  Almy,  of  the  Tribune,  on  gun  contracts  ....  250,000.00 

To  profit  of  Snow,  of  the  Tribune,  on  gun  contracts      ....  100,000.00 

To  profit  of  Hall,  stockholder  of  the  Tribune,  on  army  shoes    .        .  60,000.00 

To  profit  of  Dr.  Ayer,  stockholder  of  the  Tribune,  on  Cherry  Pectoral 

for  the  army 60.000.00 

To  profit  of  Wilkeson,  of  the  Tribune,  on  the  'Tribune's  Contract  Bu 
reau'  at  Washington .05 


Total, $2,469,162,400.05 

"  So  much  for  the  spoils ;  and  now  for  the  blood.  The  following  list,  it  will 
be  observed,  does  not  include  the  captured,  the  missing,  or  the  sick  Union  sol 
diers,  —  losses  equally  chargeable  to  the  Tribune  and  the  Abolitionists :  — 


1  To  Bull  Run     .        .        . 
To  Davis  Creek,  Mo.      . 
To  Lexington,  Mo.   . 
To  Ball's  Bluff      . 
To  Belmont      .        .        * 
To  Mill  Spring,  Ky.       . 
To  Fort  Henry 
To  Roanoke  Island       .        < 
To  Fort  Donelsoii      . 
To  Fort  Craig,  New  Mexico 
To  Pea  Ridge    . 
To  Attack  of  the  Merrimac 
To  Newbern      .        .        . 
To  Winchester 


Killed. 
481 
223 


84 
39 
17 
60 

446 
62 

203 

201 
91 

132 


Wounded. 
1,011 

721 

120 

266 

288 

207 
31 

222 
1,735 

140 

972 

108 

466 

640 


ASSAULT    OX    THE    TRIBUNE    OFFICE.  515 

To  Pittsburg  Landing 1,735  7,882 

To  Yprktown 85  120 

To  Forts  Jackson  and  St.  Philip 30  119 

To  Williamsburg 455  1,411 

To  West  Point 44  100 

To  McDowell 87  225 

To  near  Corinth 21  149 

To  Banks's  retreat,  estimated 100  800 

To  Hanover  Court-House 63  296 

To  Fair  Oaks 890  3,627 

To  Port  Republic  (Fremont) .181  456 

To  Port  Republic  (Shields) 67  370 

To  seven  days'  contests,  estimated 4,000  11,000 

To  skirmishes 690  1,740 

Total 10,889  35,822 

"  We  bring  the  account  current  of  the  Tribune  up  to  date.  What  greater 
disasters  it  may  bring  upon  us  in  the  future,  if  not  soon  suppressed,  time  alone 
can  tell.  By  its  opposition  to  McClellan  it  has  indefinitely  prolonged  the  war, 
added  immensely  to  our  expenses  in  men  and  money,  and  made  European  inter 
vention  probable.  Its  motive  for  this  is  self-evident,  —  it  is  self-interest.  Poor 
Greeley  makes  money  out  of  the  war.  He  has  contracts  which  cease  when  the 
war  ceases,  and  therefore  he  is  determined  that  the  war  shall  continue.  Mad 
with  greed,  he  rushes  onward  to  his  ruin.  In  vain  his  array  correspondent 
1  S.  W.'  assures  him  that  he  and  his  associates  are  '  doomed  men.'  He  will 
not  cease  to  do  evil  until  the  government  or  the  people  shall  lose  all  patience, 
and  suddenly  annihilate  him  and  his  infamous  Tribune.  That  time  now  seems 
not  very  distant.  He  will  be  fairly  tried,  and  if  found  insane,  he  will  be  sent 
to  an  asylum ;  if  sane,  to  the  gallows.  This  monster,  ogre,  ghoul,  will  soon 
feast  his  last  upon  Union  blood  and  national  spoils." 

In  many  articles  the  mob  was  incited  to  make  Mr.  Greeley  the 
first  victim  of  their  vengeance.  "If,"  said  the  Herald,  "we  decide 
to  hang  the  Abolitionists,  poor  Greeley  shall  swing  on  the  post  of 
honor  at  the  head  or  tail  of  the  lot.  We  promise  him  that  high 
honor." 

These  efforts  were  at  length  crowned  with  some  degree  of  suc 
cess.  The  Tribune  office  was  assailed  by  a  mob  during  the  draft 
riots  of  July,  1863,  and  its  editor  would  certainly  have  been  put  to 
death  but  for  the  precautionary  measures  of  his  friends.  It  fell  to 
my  lot  to  witness  the  attempt  to  destroy  the  Tribune  building,. 
On  Monday,  the  first  day  of  the  disturbance,  about  four  o'clock  in 
the  afternoon,  my  wife  and  I  were  strolling  down  Fourteenth 
Street  in  that  languid  state  of  mind  which  writers  know  who  have 
spent  a  long  morning  at  the  desk.  Near  the  corner  of  the  Fifth 


516  DURING    THE    WAR. 

Avenue  we  were  startled  from  our  state  of  vacancy  by  a  large 
stone  falling  upon  the  pavement  before  us,  which  was  followed  by 
a  yell  of  many  voices,  and  the  swift  galloping  past  of  a  horse  with 
a  black  man  on  his  back.  We  saw  streaming  down  the  Fifth  Ave 
nue  a  crowd  of  ill-dressed  and  ill-favored  men  and  boys,  each  car 
rying  a  long  stick  or  piece  of  board,  and  one  or  two  of  them  a 
rusty  musket.  They  were  walking  rapidly  and  without  order,  on 
the  sidewalk  and  in  the  street,  and  extended  perhaps  a  quarter  of 
a  mile ;  in  all,  there  may  have  been  two  hundred  of  them.  The 
stone  which  had  recalled  our  attention  to  sublunary  things  was 
aimed  by  one  of  these  scoundrels  at  the  negro,  who  owed  his  es 
cape  from  instant  death  to  his  being  on  horseback. 

Having  heard  nothing  of  the  riots  of  that  morning,  we  were  puz 
zled  to  account  for  the  presence  of  this  motley  crew  in  a  region 
usually  so  serene,  until  one  of  them  cried  out,  as  he  passed,  "There 
's  a  three-hundred-dollar  fellow."  When  the  main  body  had  gone 
by,  I  asked  one  of  the  stragglers  where  they  were  going.  The 
reply  was,  "  To  the  '  Trybune '  office." 

It  was  a  strange  looking  gang  of  ruffians.  I  have  lived  in  New 
York  from  childhood,  and  supposed  myself  to  be  pretty  well  ac 
quainted  with  the  various  classes  of  its  inhabitants.  But  I  did  not 
recognize  that  crowd.  I  know  not  to  this  day  whence  they  came 
nor  whither  they  vanished.  Three  fourths  of  them  were  under 
twenty-one  years  of  age,  and  many  were  not  more  than  fourteen. 
The  clubs  with  which  they  were  armed  were  all  extempore,  evi 
dently  seized,  as  they  passed,  from  some  pile  of  old  boards  and 
timber.  Their  clothes  were  not  of  any  kind  of  shabbiness  that  I 
have  ever  seen  in  our  streets.  They  were  not  the  garments  of 
laborers  or  mechanics,  nor  of  any  other  class  usually  seen  here.  I 
should  say  they  might  be  dock  thieves,  plunderers  of  ship-yards, 
and  stealers  of  old  iron  and  copper. 

It  occurred  to  me  that,  by  taking  an  omnibus,  I  could  get  ahead 
of  the  gang,  and  give  warning  at  the  office  threatened,  —  about  a 
mile  and  a  half  distant.  So  we  hurried  to  Broadway ;  but  the  om 
nibuses  being  full,  I  strode  on  at  a  great  pace  down  town,  and  thus 
had  the  exquisite  satisfaction  of  seeing  that  crew  of  villains  put  to 
flight  near  the  corner  of  Tenth  Street.  It  so  happened  that,  just 
as  the  head  of  the  gang  turned  into  Broadway,  a  body  of  policemen 
was  passing  on  toward  the  scene  of  the  riots  up  town.  The  police 


ASSAULT  ON  THE  TRIBUNE  OFFICE.  517 

instantly  formed  into  two  lines,  extending  from  curbstone  to  curb 
stone,  and  rushed  upon  the  mob.  "  Strike  hard  and  take  no  pris 
oners,"  was  the  word.  There  was  a  rattling  of  clubs  for  a  moment, 
a  dozen  knock-down  blows  given,  and  the  ruffians  fled  by  every 
street,  leaving  their  wounded  in  the  mud.  The  police  re-formed  in 
marching  order,  and  continued  their  course,  making  no  arrests.  It 
was  all  over  in  about  a  minute.  All  the  wounded  were  able  to  get 
away,  except  one,  who  staggered  into  a  drug-store  as  I  got  into  an 
omnibus.  He  was  evidently  in  a  damaged  condition  about  the 
head,  and  his  face  was  covered  with  blood.  Only  one  of  the  police 
was  hit,  and  he  was  able  to  go  on  with  his  company. 

At  the  Tribune  office  everything  wore  an  aspect  so  little  unusual 
that  I  felt  rather  ashamed  to  tell  my  story.  The  windows  and 
doors  were  all  open,  the  business  office  was  nearly  empty,  the  ed 
itorial  rooms  quite  so,  and  there  was  no  crowd  around  the  build 
ing.  The  reporters  and  editors  were  absent,  collecting  details  of 
the  riot. 

While  I  was  suggesting  the  propriety  of  shutting  up  the  office, 
as  a  precautionary  measure,  Mr.  G-ilmore  (Edmund  Kirke)  came 
in,  and  to  him  I  stated  what  I  had  seen  and  heard.  He  was 
fully  alive  to  the  situation,  and  proposed  that  we  should  go  to 
the  Chief  of  Police  and  to  General  Wool,  and  see  what  was  pre 
pared  for  the  protection  of  the  office  during  the  night.  We  went. 
At  police  head-quarters,  we  found  a  squad  of  more  than  a  hundred 
men  drawn  up  on  the  sidewalk,  who,  we  were  assured,  would 
march  to  the  office  and  remain  on  guard  there.  This  seemed  suf 
ficient;  but.  to  make  assurance  doubly  sure,  Mr.  G-ilmore  insisted 
on  our  going  to  General  Wool.  We  found  the  General  at  the  St. 
Nicholas  Hotel,  with  the  Mayor  and  a  staff.  Mr.  Gilmore  pro 
cured  from  him  an  order  on  the  ordnance  officer  at  Governor's  Isl 
and  for  one  hundred  muskets,  and  the  requisite  ammunition.  He 
started  immediately  for  the  island ;  and  I,  satisfied  that  the  Trib 
une  was  safe,  walked  leisurely  to  the  office  to  report  progress. 

It  was  about  seven  in  the  evening  when  I  reached  it.  The  ap 
pearance  of  the  neighborhood  had  changed.  The  office  was  closed, 
and  the  shutters  were  up.  A  large  number  of  people  were  in  the 
open  space  in  front  of  it,  talking  in  groups,  but  not  in  a  loud  or  ex 
cited  manner.  Not  a  policeman  was  to  be  seen.  Upon  getting  into 
the  office,  I  found  only  two  or  three  persons  there,  neither  of  whom 


518  DURING    THE    WAR. 

knew  anything  about  the  body  of  police  detailed  to  guard  the  prem 
ises,  nor  had  they  heard  of  any  measures  taken  to  defend  it.  Their 
official  position  made  it  their  duty  to  stand  by  the  ship ;  and  there 
they  were,  helpless  and  alone.  Crossing  over  to  the  police  station 
in  the  City  Hall,  in  search  of  the  promised  squad,  I  found  one  po 
liceman  in  charge,  who  said  that  a  hundred  and  ten  men  had,  in 
deed,  come  down  to  that  station ;  but  that,  upon  a  rumor  of  a  riot 
in  the  First  Ward,  they  had  immediately  marched  away  again. 
As  Mr.  Gilmore  could  not  possibly  get  back  with  the  arms  under 
two  hours,  the  office  was  no  safer  than  before. 

I  went  among  the  crowd  in  front  of  the  Tribune  office,  to  learn 
the  tone  of  the  conversation  going  on  there.  There  was  nothing 
remarkable  in  the  appearance  of  the  people,  most  of  whom  seemed 
to  be  merely  attracted  by  curiosity,  and  detained  by  the  impulse 
there  is  at  such  times  for  people  to  gather  in  knots  and  talk.  One 
good-natured  looking  bull  of  a  man  was  declaiming  a  little.  "  What 
is  the  use  of  killing  the  niggers?  "  said  he.  "  The  niggers  have  n't 
done  nothing.  They  didn't  bring  themselves  here,  did  they? 
They  are  peaceable  enough !  They  don't  interfere  with  nobody." 
Then  pointing  to  the  editorial  rooms  of  the  Tribune,  he  exclaimed, 
"  Them  are  the  niggers  up  there."  Others  were  holding  forth  in 
a  similar  strain. 

Little  by  little  the  crowd  gathered  more  closely  about  the  office, 
and  became  more  compact.  The  sidewalk  was  kept  pretty  clear ; 
but  from  the  curbstone  back  to  the  middle  of  the  square  there  was 
a  mass  of  people  who  stood  looking  at  the  building,  which  loomed 
up  in  the  dusk  of  the  evening,  unlighted  and  apparently  unoccu 
pied.  The  crowd  was  still  very  quiet.  At  length  a  small  gang  of 
such  fellows  as  I  had  seen  demolished  by  the  police  in  the  after 
noon  came  along  from  Chatham  Street  and  mingled  with  the 
crowd,  which  from  that  time  began  to  be  a  little  noisy.  A  voice 
would  utter  something,  and  the  rest  of  the  people  would  laugh  or 
cheer,  or  both.  It  was  the  laughter  and  cheers  which  appeared  to 
work  the  mob  up  to  the  point  of  committing  violence.  Gradually 
the  shouts  became  louder  and  much  more  frequent.  At  last  a 
stone  was  thrown,  which  hit  one  of  the  shutters  and  fell  upon  the 
pavement  close  to  the  building.  This  was  greeted  by  a  perfect  yell 
of  applause ;  and  then,  for  the  first  time,  I  felt  that  the  office  was 
in  danger.  Before  that,  the  crowd  had  laughed  too  much  to  sug- 


ASSAULT  ON  THE  TRIBUNE  OFFICE.  519 

gest  the  fear  that  it  meant  mischief.  Besides,  the  fringe  of  the 
crowd  nearest  the  building  was  composed  of  boys,  —  newsboys, 
apparently,  —  some  of  whom  were  not  more  than  twelve  years  old. 

I  ran  over  to  the  police  station  at  the  City  Hall.  A  few  police 
men  were  there,  to  whom  I  said  :  — 

"The  mob  are  beginning  to  throw  stones  at  the  Tribune  office. 
Five  men  can  stop  the  mischief  now;  in  ten  minutes  a  hundred 
cannot." 

It  happened  that  the  number  of  men  present  was  six,  five  of 
whom  very  promptly  drew  their  clubs,  and  repaired  to  the  scene. 
By  the  time  they  arrived  stones  were  flying  fast,  and  little  boys 
would  run  forward,  under  the  shower  of  missiles,  pick  up  a  stone 
or  two,  and  run  back.  Occasionally  a  window  would  be  broken, 
eliciting  a  yell  of  triumph  from  the  mob.  The  five  men  went 
boldly  along  the  sidewalk,  and  gained  a  position  between  the  office 
and  the  crowd.  The  firing  totally  ceased  for  a  minute  or  two,  and 
the  mob  slunk  away  from  the  police,  as  if  fearing,  possibly,  revolv 
ers.  Very  soon,  however,  the  smallness  of  the  force  became  appar 
ent;  no  revolvers  were  shown;  and  the  stones  again  began  to  bat 
ter  against  the  shutters  and  smash  the  windows.  The  mob  surged 
forward ;  those  in  front  being  pushed  upon  the  clubs  of  the  police 
men,  who  were  soon  overpowered  and  thrust  aside.  Then  the  mob 
rushed  at  the  lower  shutters  and  doors.  There  was  a  loud  banging 
and  thumping  of  clubs,  and,  in  an  exceedingly  short  time,  amid  the 
most  frantic  yells  of  the  multitude,  the  main  door  was  forced,  and 
the  mob  poured  into  the  building.  I  supposed  then  that  the  Trib 
une  was  gone.  But  at  that  moment  the  report  of  a  pistol  was 
heard,  fired  somewhere  in  front  of  the  building,  whether  from  one 
of  the  windows  or  from  a  policeman  below,  I  know  not.  Instantly 
most  of  the  assailants  took  to  flight,  and  Printing-House  Square 
appeared  as  empty  as  it  usually  is  at  two  o'clock  in  the  morning. 
It  was  like  magic.  The  gates  of  the  opposite  Park  were  choked 
with  fugitives.  Before  the  dastards  had  time  to  rally  a  whole 
army  of  blue  uniforms  came  up  Nassau  Street,  at  the  double-quick, 
and  the  office  was  saved.  These  men,  I  suppose,  were  the  original 
one  hundred  and  ten  detailed  for  the  purpose ;  but,  in  the  dim  light 
of  the  evening,  it  seemed  as  if  Nassau  Street  was  a  rushing  torrent 
of  dark-blue  cloth,  flecked  with  the  foam  of  human  faces. 

Mr.  Greeley  was  slow  to  believe  that  anything  serious  was  in- 


520  DURING   THE    WAR. 

tended  by  those  who  opposed  the  draft.  One  of  his  associates  said 
to  him  that  morning :  "  We  must  arm  the  office.  This  is  not  a  riot ; 
it  is  a  revolution." 

"No,"  replied  the  editor;  "do  not  bring  a  musket  into  the  build 
ing.  Let  them  strike  the  first  blow.  All  my  life  I  have  worked 
for  the  workingmen ;  if  they  would  now  burn  my  office  and  hang 
me,  why,  let  them  do  it." 

Mr.  G-ilmore  may  continue  the  story  of  the  assault  upon  the  of 
fice:  "While  these  events  were  going  on,  the  senior  editor  of  the 
Tribune  was  quietly  reading  the  evening  newspaper  at  his  up-town 
lodgings,  in  happy  ignorance  of  the  drama  that  was  being  enacted 
in  Printing-House  Square.  His  dinner  had  been  a  somewhat 
lengthy  one,  owing  to  the  fact  that  his  friends,  to  keep  him  away 
from  his  office  as  long  as  possible,  had  shrewdly  ordered  viands 
that  consumed  a  long  time  in  cooking.  But  they  were  done  at 
last ;  and  the  repast  over,  this  man,  who  was  marked  out  for  the 
especial  fury  of  the  populace,  rose  to  go  openly  back  to  his  office, 
and  write  another  editorial.  He  was  in  Ann  Street ;  and  all  Nas 
sau  Street,  and  Printing-House  Square,  and  Broadway  around  the 
corner,  was  filled  with  an  excited  crowd  clamoring,  '  Down  with 
the  Tribune ! '  '  Down  with  the  old  white  coat  what  counts  a  nayger 
as  good  as  an  Irishman ! '  He  could  not  have  gone  ten  paces  without 
recognition;  and  recognition  by  that  mob  meant  death  in  ten  min 
utes  from  the  nearest  lamp-post.  In  these  circumstances,  it  was 
fortunate  that  he  was  attended  by  a  friend  (Theodore  Tilton)  who 
was  fully  alive  to  the  danger.  For  a  time  the  Tribune  editor  in 
sisted  that  he  would  not  be  kept  from  his  office  by  a  crew  of  riot 
ers,  but  at  last  he  was  persuaded  that  •  discretion  is  the  better  part 
of  valor,'  and  consented  to  be  driven  homeward.  A  carriage  was 
brought,  the  curtains  were  drawn  down,  and  entering  with  his 
two  friends  he  was  hurried  through  the  very  midst  of  the  mob  to 
his  home  on  one  of  the  up-town  avenues.  He  had  escaped  immi 
nent  peril;  and  safely  arrived  there,  might  have  drawn  a  long 
breath ;  but  it  is  more  than  likely  that  he  did  not,  for  all  through 
the  riots  he  seemed  totally  oblivious  to  the  fact  that  he  was  in  any 
personal  danger." 

In  the  course  of  the  evening  Mr.  Gilmore  returned  with  an 
abundant  supply  of  arms  and  ammunition,  and  the  office  was  thor 
oughly  fortified.  Mr.  Gilmore  adds  the  following  particulars :  — 


ASSAULT  ON  THE  TRIBUNE  OFFICE.  521 

"As  he  went  down  Broadway,  the  managing  editor  heard  that 
the  Tribune  building  had  been  sacked  and  burned ;  but  he  kept  on, 
and  in  half  an  hour  reached  the  office,  just  as  the  police  were  driv 
ing  off  the  rear-guard  of  the  rioters.  Entering  the  lower  story,  he 
came  upon  a  scene  which  beggared  description.  In  the  two  min 
utes  they  had  held  possession  the  mob  had  accomplished  the  most 
thorough  and  complete  destruction.  Not  an  article  of  furniture  re 
mained  in  its  proper  position.  G-as-burners  were  twisted  off,  coun 
ters  torn  up,  desks  overturned,  doors  and  windows  battered  in; 
and,  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  two  charred  spots,  littered  over 
with  paper  cinders,  showed  where  fires  had  been  kindled  to  reduce 
the  building  to  ashes. 

"  Ascending  to  the  upper  stories,  he  found  the  editorial  rooms  si 
lent  and  deserted  by  all  save  one  of  the  corps,  —  the  brave  Smalley, 
who,  a  year  before,  had  ridden  by  the  side  of  Hooker  through  the 
fire  of  the  bloody  field  of  Antietam.  The  composing-rooms,  also, 
had  but  a  single  tenant,  —  the  rest  having  escaped  by  the  roof  when 
the  mob  attacked  the  building.  Out  of  a  force  of  a  hundred  and 
fifty  men,  only  three  were  at  their  posts.  But,  if  the  whole  num 
ber  had  stood  their  ground,  what  could  they,  unarmed,  have  done 
against  a  furious  mob  of  five  thousand? 

"  But  the  editor  did  not  waste  thought  on  this  subject ;  for  it  was 
already  eight  o'clock  at  night,  and,  before  daybreak,  fifty  thousand 
copies  of  his  journal  had  to  be  in  press,  and  borne  on  the  four  winds 
to  every  quarter  of  the  country.  Looking  down  on  the  street,  he 
saw  that  the  mob  had  dispersed ;  and,  quietly  sallying  out,  he  ral 
lied  a  dozen  of  his  printers.  With  this  small  force  he  began  work ; 
but  soon,  one  by  one,  the  others  fell  in,  and  in  half  an  hour  the 
types  were  clicking,  and  the  monster  press  was  rumbling,  as  if 
only  quiet  reigned  over  the  great  city." 

The  vengeance  which  Mr.  Greeley  took  upon  the  editor  of  the 
Herald  was  of  the  kind  described  in  Scripture  as  "heaping  coals 
of  fire  upon  the  head."  During  the  Presidential  campaign  of  1864 
Mr.  Lincoln  and  his  friends  deemed  the  support  of  the  Herald  al 
most  essential  to  his  success,  and  that  support  was  deliberately  pur 
chased.  The  price  paid  was  the  proffer  of  the  mission  to  France. 
This  bargain  was  made  known  to  several  editors  of  Republican 
newspapers,  who  agreed  not  to  denounce  it.  Mr.  Greeley  was 
even  prevailed  upon  to  insert  in  the  Tribune  a  paragraph,  written 


522  DURING    THE    WAR. 

by  another  hand,  in  which  the  editor  of  the  Herald  was  commended 
as  a  proper  person  to  represent  the  United  States  at  the  court  of 
France.  I  have  no  more  doubt  that  Mr.  Greeley's  motives  in  coun 
tenancing  this  bargain  were  patriotic  than  I  have  that  the  act  was 
wrong.  It  was  not  only  wrong,  but  impolitic,  since  the  city  of 
New  York,  where  the  Herald  chiefly  circulates,  and  where  alone 
it  can  be  said  to  have  any  influence  over  votes,  gave  to  the  candi 
date  for  the  Presidency  opposed  to  Mr.  Lincoln  the  great  majority 
of  thirty-seven  thousand.  We  must  remember,  however,  that 
when  this  compact  was  made  the  prospects  of  the  United  States 
were  gloomy  in  the  extreme ;  and  to  many  men  the  clamorous  sup 
port  of  the  Herald  was  supposed  to  be  desirable,  even  though  pur 
chased  by  the  sacrifice  of  honor. 

During  the  year  1863,  when  the  immense  expenses  in  which  the 
war  involved  the  Tribune  consumed  the  profits  of  the  establish 
ment,  Mr.  G-reeley  accepted  a  very  liberal  offer  from  Messrs.  Case 
&  Co.  of  Hartford,  to  write  a  history  of  the  war,  and,  during  the 
next  two  or  three  years,  he  performed  two  days'  work  in  one.  At 
nine  in  the  morning  he  shut  himself  up  in  his  room  in  the  "Bible 
House"  with  an  amanuensis,  and  worked  upon  his  history  until 
four  in  the  afternoon ;  after  which  he  went  down  town,  dined,  and 
labored  upon  the  newspaper  until  eleven  at  night.  And,  as  if  this 
were  not  enough,  he  frequently  snatched  an  hour  or  two  during  the 
evening  to  address  a  political  meeting.  The  history  was  finished 
in  1865,  and  has  had  a  sale  of  a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  copies, 
and  is  still  in  active  demand.  No  one  knows  better  than  Mr.  Gree- 
ley  that  the  complete  and  final  history  of  the  war  has  not  yet  be 
come  possible,  and  will  not  for  some  years  to  come.  Nevertheless, 
it  may  be  said  of  Mr.  Greeley's  work,  that  it  is  the  most  valuable 
contribution  to  the  means  of  understanding  the  war,  both  in  its 
causes  and  in  its  results,  that  has  yet  been  made  by  an  individual. 
The  spirit  of  it  is  high,  humane,  and  every  way  admirable,  and  it 
contains  an  astonishing  mass  of  instructive  details.  Mr.  Greeley 
says  in  his  Preface,  and  truly  says :  "  I  shall  labor  constantly  to 
guard  against  the  error  of  supposing  that  all  the  heroism,  devoted- 
ness,  humanity,  chivalry,  evinced  in  the  contest  were  displayed  on 
one  side ;  all  the  cowardice,  ferocity,  cruelty,  rapacity,  and  general 
depravity,  on  the  other.  I  believe  it  to  be  the  truth,  and  as  such 
I  shall  endeavor  to  show  that,  while  this  war  has  been  signalized 


PRIZES   FOR   IMPROVED    FRUITS.  523 

by  some  deeds  disgraceful  to  human  nature,  the  general  behavior 
of  the  combatants  on  either  side  has  been  calculated  to  do  honor 
even  to  the  men  who,   though  fearfully  misguided,  are  still  our 
countrymen,  and  to  exalt  the  prestige  of  the  American  name." 
The  dedication  of  the  work  was  as  follows :  — 

TO 

JOHN    BRIGHT, 

BRITISH   COMMONER  AND   CHRISTIAN   STATESMAN ! 

THE   FRIEND   OF   MY    COUNTRY,    BECAUSE   THE   FRIEND   OF   MANKIND  I 
THIS  RECORD   OF  A  NATION'S  STRUGGLE 

UP 

FROM   DARKNESS    AND    BONDAGE    TO    LIGHT    AND   LIBERTY, 
IS    REGARDFULLY,    GRATEFULLY    INSCRIBED 

BY  THE  AUTHOR. 

In  1864,  when  the  subscriptions  to  the  forthcoming  history  prom 
ised  to  put  a  little  money  in  Mr.  G-reeley's  pocket,  he  concluded  to 
spend  a  few  hundred  dollars  of  it  in  the  manner  indicated  in  the 
following  article :  — 

"IMPROVED  VARIETIES  OF   FRUIT. 

"  So  much  has  been  well  done  within  the  last  few  years  in  Amer 
ican  fruit-growing,  that  it  seems  feasible  to  do  still  more,  or  at  least 
to  realize  more  extensively  and  rapidly  the  benefit  of  past  improve 
ments. 

"  I.  Perhaps  the  most  signal  advance  has  been  made  in  the  pro 
duction  of  GRAPES.  There  are  probably  twenty-fold  more  grapes 
grown  for  sale  in  this  country  to-day  than  there  were  thirty  years 
ago,  while  the  improvement  in  current  varieties,  in  culture  and  in 
quality,  has  been  equally  decided.  Still,  we  are  growing  far  too 
many  inferior  grapes,  while  our  established  favorites  are  too  gener 
ally  deficient  in  one  or  more  respects ;  they  require  too  long  a  sea 
son,  or  they  have  some  notable  defect  as  a  table-fruit.  So  much 
labor  has  been  wasted  on  varieties  of  foreign  origin,  that  it  is  not 
deemed  advisable  to  incite  to  further  effort  in  that  direction.  There 
is  not  to-day  in  the  United  States  a  good  table-grape  of  foreign 
origin  that  can  safely  be  grown  in  open  air,  north  of  the  Potomac 


524  DURING   THE   WAR. 

and  the  Ohio.  But  it  is  plausibly  claimed  that  several  substantially 
new  or  little  known  varieties  of  domestic  origin  are  of  high  quality, 
fulfilling  all  the  requisites  of  choice  table-fruit.  It  is  time  that  these 
claims  were  tested  and  passed  upon  by  disinterested  and  capable 
judges.  As  a  humble  contribution  toward  this  end,  I  hereby  offer 
a  premium  of  $  100  for  the  best  plate  of  native  grapes,  weighing  not 
less  than  six  pounds,  of  any  variety  known  to  the  growers  or  propa 
gators  of  this  country.  I  require  that  the  grapes  competing  for  this 
premium  shall  ripen  earlier  than  the  Isabella,  Catawba,  or  Diana, 
none  of  which  is  considered  well  adapted  to  a  season  no  longer  and 
no  hotter  and  drier  than  ours.  The  berries  must  be  of  at  least 
good  medium  size,  and  not  liable  to  fall  from  the  stem  when  ripe. 
The  flesh  must  be  melting  and  tender  quite  to  the  centre.  The 
flavor  must  be  pure,  rich,  vinous,  and  exhilarating.  The  vine  must 
be  healthy,  productive,  of  good  habit  of  growth  for  training  in  yards 
and  gardens  as  well  as  in  vineyards,  with  leaves  at  least  as  hardy 
and  well  adapted  to  our  climate  as  those  of  the  Delaware.  In  short, 
what  is  sought  is  a  vine  which  embodies  the  best  qualities  of  the 
most  approved  American  and  foreign  varieties,  so  far  as  possible. 

"I  propose  to  pay  this  premium  on  the  award  of  the  fruit  depart 
ment  of  the  American  Institute,  and  invite  competition  for  it  at  the 
annual  fair  of  that  Institute  soon  to  open ;  but,  if  a  thoroughly  sat 
isfactory  grape  should  not  now  be  presented,  the  Institute  will  of 
course  postpone  the  award  till  the  proper  claimant  shall  have  ap 
peared. 

"  II.  I  offer  a  further  premium  of  $  100  for  the  best  bushel  of 
APPLES,  of  a  variety  which  combines  general  excellence  with  the 
quality  of  keeping  in  good  condition  at  least  to  the  1st  of  February, 
and  is  adapted  to  the  climate  and  soil  of  the  Northern  and  Middle 
States. 

"  It  is  not  required  that  the  apple  submitted  for  competition  shall 
be  new ;  but  it  is  hoped  that  one  may  be  found  which  combines 
the  better  characteristics  of  such  popular  favorites  as  the  Northern 
Spy,  Baldwin,  Greening,  and  Newton  Pippin,  or  a  majority  of 
them.  Let  us  see  if  there  be  not  a  better  apple  than  the  established 
favorites ;  if  not,  let  us  acknowledge  and  act  upon  the  truth. 

"III.  I  further  offer  a  premium  of  $100  for  the  best  bushel  of 
PEARS  of  a  specific  variety,  —  size,  flavor,  season,  &c.,  being  all  con 
sidered.  It  must  be  a  pear  adapted  to  general  cultivation.  It  need 


PRIZES   FOR   IMPROVED   FRUITS.  525 

not  be  a  new  sort,  provided  it  be  unquestionably  superior ;  but  one 
object  of  the  premium  is  to  develop  unacknowledged  excellence  if 
such  shall  be  found  to  exist. 

"One  object  of  these  offers  is  to  afford  a  landmark  for  fruit 
growers  in  gardens  and  on  small  farms,  who  are  now  bewildered  by 
the  multiplicity  of  sorts  challenging  their  attention,  each  setting  up 
claims  to  unapproachable  excellence.  I  leave  the  determination  of 
all  questions  which  may  arise  as  to  the  propriety  of  making  a 
prompt  award,  or  awaiting  further  developments,  entirely  to  the 
appropriate  department  of  the  Institute. 

"HORACE  G-REELEY. 

"NEW  YORK,  September  22,  1864" 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 

RECONSTRUCTION. 

Horace  Greeley's  plan— His  mediation  between  President  Johnson  and  Congress— He  joins 
in  bailing  Jefferson  Davis — His  speech  at  Richmond. 

No  reader  of  this  work  need  be  informed  how  Horace  Greeley 
felt  toward  the  people  of  the  Southern  States  when  the  war  ended. 
Unless  his  nature  had  suddenly  changed,  he  could  have  had  no 
other  than  a  friendly  feeling  toward  them,  and  an  intense  desire 
for  the  restoration  of  good  feeling  between  the  two  sections  of  the 
Union.  His  policy  of  reconstruction  is  summed  up  in  four  words, 
a  thousand  times  repeated  in  the  Tribune :  "  UNIVERSAL  AMNESTY, 

IMPARTIAL    SUFFRAGE." 

To  this  simple  but  all-including  plan  he  has  constantly  adhered, 
until  at  the  present  moment  there  is  a  prospect  of  its  speedy  and 
complete  adoption. 

In  a  speech  delivered  in  March,  1866,  he  expressed  his  views 
with  clearness  and  force. 

"  What  has  the  war  decided  ?  First,  all  men  agree  that  our 
war's  close  has  settled  this  point :  that  we  —  all  the  States  compos 
ing  this  Federal  Union  —  are  not  a  mere  confederacy ;  we  are  not 
a  league ;  we  are  not  an  alliance :  we  are  a  nation.  This  country 
of  ours,  this  American  people,  compose  a  nation;  and  your  alle 
giance  and  my  allegiance  is  due,  primarily,  to  the  country,  to  the 
United  States,  and  not  to  New  York,  nor  New  Jersey,  nor  Penn 
sylvania,  nor  Virginia,  wherever  we  may  happen  to  live, — not  to 
our  State,  but  to  our  country.  There  were  differences  of  opinion 
about  this  before  the  war,  but  I  believe  that  all  men  now  agree  that 
the  point  has  been  settled ;  and,  whatever  may  have  been  heretofore 
believed  or  taught  with  regard  to  State  rights  or  the  right  of  seces 
sion,  it  is  generally  conceded  now  that  that  issue  has  been  settled, 
and  that,  first  and  above  all  things,  we  are  a  nation. 

"  Now,  then,  this  conclusion  carries  very  much  more  with  it ;  for, 
if  the  government  of  the  United  States  is  entitled  to  your  alle 
giance  and  my  allegiance,  primarily,  then  we  are  entitled  to  its 


HORACE  GREELEY'S  PLAN.  527 

protection.  It  cannot  be  that  in  the  one  case  the  Union  is  entitled 
to  our  first  and  paramount  allegiance,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  we 
are  not  entitled  to  that  Union's  paramount  and  complete  protec 
tion.  If  the  State  may  wrest  from  me  the  protection  of  my  coun 
try,  —  if  the  State  may  stand  between  me  and  the  country  and  say, 
*  The  nation  decrees  this ;  but  we  will  do  with  you  as  we  please, 
in  spite  of  the  nation,'  —  then  it  is  most  unjust  that  the  nation 
should  demand  from  me  my  allegiance  at  the  same  time  that  it 
withholds  from  me  its  protection.  I  think  all  men  say  yes  to  this. 

"  But  that  conclusion  reaches  very  much  further  than  many  of 
us  would  be  willing  to  follow  it ;  for,  if  what  I  have  said  is  true 
with  regard  to  white  men,  it  is  also  true  with  regard  to  black  men. 
If  the  government  of  the  United  States,  before  and  above  all  else, 
is  entitled  to  the  allegiance  of  every  great  and  every  small  man, 
every  intelligent  and  every  ignorant  man,  every  white  and  every 
black  man  in  the  country,  then  that  government,  before  all  else,  is 
bound  to  protect  these  men  in  their  rights  as  free  men.  So,  when 
I  am  asked,  '  From  whence  do  you  derive  the  power  of  the  govern 
ment  to  pass  and  make  law  the  Freedmen's  Bureau  Bill  and  the 
Civil  Rights  Bill,  especially  the  Civil  Rights  Bill  ? '  I  answer,  '  I  de 
rive  it  from  the  fact  that  the  government  claims,  and  rightfully 
claims,  the  allegiance  of  those  men,  and  therefore  owes  them  its 
protection.' 

"  I  believe  it  is  conceded  by  all  men  now  that  the  war  has  set 
tled  one  other  thing,  that  this  is  to  be  a  land  of  only  free  people. 
It  is  not  to  be  a  land  part  slave  and  part  free ;  but  it  is  to  be  a  land 
of  freemen ;  freedmen,  we  say,  with  regard  to  some  of  our  people 
to-day,  those  who  were  lately  enslaved,  but  their  children  will  not 
be  freedmen,  but  free  men.  There  are  none  in  this  land  to-day,  law 
fully  and  rightfully,  but  free  people,  and  this  point  even  those  who 
differ  most  widely  from  us  all  admit :  that  we  are,  and  henceforth 
are  to  be,  a  nation  of  free  men." 

Then,  as  to  the  blacks  and  their  right  to  citizenship :  — 

"While  slavery  existed,  there  was  a  tremendous  class  interest 
which  was  hostile  to  the  recognition  of  human  equality.  You 
could  not  expect  human  nature,  such  as  it  is,  to  give  away,  or  to 
put  away,  $4,000,000,000  worth  of  property,  even  though  we  have 
grossly  exaggerated  our  estimate  of  its  value.  But  it  is  very  hard 
for  men  to  give  up  what  is  to  them  capital,  wealth,  ease,  conse- 


528  RECONSTRUCTION. 

Alienee,  importance,  to  throw  this  aside  and  say,  '  No,  we  will  come 
down  to  a  plain  level  with  other  people.'  It  is  very  hard  to  do 
this,  and  it  is  a  good  deal  to  ask  them  to  do  it. 

"But  slavery  being  gone;  no  longer  an  interest;  nothing  but  a 
prejudice  to  overcome,  nothing  but  a  rapacity  reaching  out  for 
power,  —  I  have  no  fears  that  they  will  last  forever ;  I  have  no 
fear  that  we  shall  go  on  quarrelling  about  a  matter  so  perfectly 
clear  as  the  right  of  freemen,  four  millions  of  freemen,  to  a  voice  in 
the  government  of  their  country.  It  cannot  be  that  this  question 
shall  be  settled  wrong,  when  there  is  not  on  the  face  of  the  earth 
one  other  nation  than  this  in  which  it  is  settled  wrong.  There  are 
republics  and  limited  monarchies  and  aristocracies  and  despotisms, 
but  there  is  no  other  land  but  ours  on  earth  where  a  freeman,  sim 
ply  because  of  his  color,  is  deprived  of  the  essential  rights  of  a  free 
man  where  everybody  enjoys  them. 

"  Brazil  is  a  slaveholding  country,  and  has  been  for  these  three 
hundred  years,  but  there  the  colored  freeman  has  the  same  right 
as  every  other  freeman.  Now,  then,  I  say  it  is  not  possible  that 
this  poor  remnant  of  a  bygone  prejudice,  —*  a  prejudice  which  was 
perfectly  intelligible  while  slavery  existed  in  the  country,  —  it  is 
not  possible  that  this  poor  remnant  of  a  prejudice  shall  remain  for 
ever  to  distract  and  divide  us.  It  will  not  be.  We  shall  ultimately 
settle  our  differences  on  the  basis  of  equal  rights  for  ah1  men  before 
the  law. 

"But  when  I  say  this,  I  never  mean  that  the  worthless,  bad, 
profligate,  desperate,  wicked  man  has  equal  rights  with  the  good 
man ;  nobody  believes  he  has  or  will  have,  but  that  the  law  will 
be  so  fixed,  and  the  Constitution  so  amended^  that  every  peaceable, 
good  man  shall  have  a  voice  in  the  government  of  his  country. 
That  we  insist  upon  as  his  privilege,  —  not  that  every  bad  man 
shall  vote,  but  that  every  man  who  is  a  good,  law-abiding  citizen 
shah1  have  a  voice  in  the  government  of  his  country. 

***** 

"  The  President  says  that  if  the  freedmen  are  allowed  to  vote, 
the  whites  will  kill  them.  Now  I  say  I  never  heard  a  better  argu 
ment  for  letting  them  vote.  If  the  men  among  whom  they  live  are 
so  unfriendly,  that  if  the  black  men  are  permitted  to  vote  they  will 
kill  them,  certainly  the  men  who  cherish  such  a  purpose  are  not 
worthy  of  being  trusted  with  the  rights  of  those  black  men.  But 


HORACE  GREELEY'S  PLAX.  529 

this  is  only  an  exaggerated  statement  of  a  truth.  A  very  great 
dislike,  a  hatred  of  the  freedmen,  does  undoubtedly  exist  among 
the  people  of  the  South.  They  are  a  sore  people,  and  very  proud. 
They  still  feel  revengeful  toward  those  who  defeated  them  in  war ; 
and  they  do  not  feel  quite  strong  enough  to  whip  the  Union  for 
it,  but  they  do  feel  able  to  punish  the  blacks,  and  no  doubt  a  great 
many  of  them  feel  and  say,  '  We  '11  make  these  niggers  realize  that 
liberty  is  not  such  a  very  fine  thing  for  them  as  they  think  it  is.' 

"Now,  I  say,  if  we  allowed  the  people  at  the  South  who  felt  and 
fought  with  us  to  be  cast,  bound  hand  and  foot,  into  the  power  of 
the  people  who  fought  against  us,  we  can  have  no  true  prosperity, 
North  or  South.  It  will  be  as  it  was  in  Spain  when  she  banished 
her  Moors,  the  most  industrious,  thrifty,  and  ingenious  of  her  popu 
lation  ;  as  it  was  in  France  when  she  expelled  the  Huguenots,  and 
with  them  expelled  productive  manufacture  and  useful  art,  to  her 
own  great  detriment  and  injury.  If  the  late  Rebels  are  allowed  to 
work  their  will  on  the  black  population,  they  will  never  be  satisfied 
until  that  population  is  either  exiled  or  destroyed,  driven  out  of  the 
country  or  out  of  the  world.  Now,  then,  it  becomes  us,  the  loyal 
people  of  the  North,  who  have  profited  by  the  good-will  and  the 
loyalty  of  the  black  people  df  the  South,  who  have  triumphed  in 
the  grandest  struggle  the  world  ever  saw,  in  part  by  their  ample 
aid,  —  for  never  yet  was  there  a  Northern  soldier  escaping  from  a 
Southern  prison-house,  no  matter  how  great  a  copperhead  he  may 
have  been  at  home,  who  did  not  seek  the  black  man's  cabin  for 
aid,  and  shelter,  and  guidance;  no  Northern  Democratic  soldier, 
however  strong  may  have  been  his  party  attachments,  ever  sought 
a  Southern  Democrat  for  shelter  when  he  was  escaping  from  prison, 
—  it  becomes  us,  I  say,  to  see  to  it  that  these  black  Union  men  do 
not  fall  unprotected  into  the  hands  of  their  enemies." 

Every  one  knows  how  this  affair  of  reconstruction  has  been  com 
plicated  and  delayed  by  the  defection  of  President  Johnson  from 
the  party  which  elected  him,  Mr.  Greeley  was  one  of  those  who 
strove  to  prevent  the  disagreement  between  Congress  and  the  Pres 
ident,  indications  of  which  he  early  discovered.  In  September, 
1866,  he  thus  related  his  endeavors  to  reunite  the  two  diverging 
departments  of  the  government:  — 

"Soon  after  our  last  State  election,  and  before  the  assembling  of 
the  present  Congress,  I  went,  not  uninvited,  to  Washington,  ex.- 
23  OH 


530  RECONSTRUCTION. 

pressly  to  guard  against  such  a  difference.  Being  admitted  to  an 
interview  with  the  President,  I  urged  him  to  call  to  Washington 
three  of  the  most  eminent  and  trusted  expositors  of  Northern  anti- 
slavery  sentiment,  and  three  equally  eminent  and  representative 
Southern  ex-Rebels,  and  ask  them  to  take  up  their  residence  at  the 
White  House  for  a  week,  a  fortnight,  so  long  as  they  might  find 
necessary,  while  they,  by  free  and  friendly  conference  and  discus 
sion,  should  earnestly  endeavor  to  find  a  common  ground  whereon 
the  North  and  the  South  should  be  not  merely  reconciled,  but  made 
evermore  fraternal  and  harmonious.  I  suggested  that  the  Presi 
dent  should  occasionally,  as  he  could  find  time,  drop  in  on  these 
conferences,  and  offer  such  suggestions  as  he  should  deem  fit, — 
rather  as  a  moderator  or  common  friend,  than  as  a  party  to  the 
discussion. 

"  A  suggestion  of  names  being  invited,  I  proposed  those  of  Gov 
ernor  Andrew  of  Massachusetts,  Gerritt  Smith  of  New  York,  and 
Judge  R.  P.  Spaulding  of  Ohio,  as  three  who  seemed  to  me  fair 
representatives  of  the  antislavery  sentiment  of  the  North,  while 
neither  specially  obnoxious  to,  nor  disposed  to  deal  harshly  with, 
the  South;  and  I  added  that  I  hoped  they  would  be  met  by  men 
like  General  Robert  E.  Lee,  Alexander  H.  Stephens,  &c.,  who 
would  be  recognized  and  heeded  by  the  South  as  men  in  whose 
hands  her  honor  and  true  interests  would  be  safe.  But  I  added 
that  I  had  no  special  desire  that  these  or  any  particular  men  should 
be  selected,  wishing  only  that  those  chosen  from  either  section 
should  be  such  as  to  command  their  people's  confidence  and  sup 
port.  And  I  pledged  myself  to  support,  to  the  extent  of  my  power, 
any  adjustment  that  should  thus  be  matured  and  agreed  upon. 

"Some  two  months  later,  after  the  meeting  of  Congress,  and 
when  the  political  sky  had  become  darker,  I  went  again  to  Wash 
ington,  on  the  assurance  of  a  mutual  friend  that  the  President  de 
sired  to  see  me.  The  joint  committee  on  reconstruction  had  then 
been  appointed.  At  an  interview  promptly  accorded,  I  urged  the 
President  to  invite  this  committee  to  the  White  House,  and  discuss 
with  them,  from  evening  to  evening,  as  friend  with  friends,  all  the 
phases  of  the  grave  problem  of  reconstruction,  with  a  fixed  resolve 
to  find  a  basis  of  agreement  if  possible.  I  urged  such  considera 
tions  as  occurred  to  me  in  favor  of  the  feasibility  of  such  agreement, 
if  it  were  earnestly  sought,  as  I  felt  sure  it  would  be  on  the  side  of 


BAILING   JEFFERSON   DAVIS.  531 

Congress.  The  vast  patronage  in  the  President's  hands,  the  reluc 
tance  of  the  majority  in  Congress  to  see  their  friends,  supporters 
and  nominees,  expelled  by  wholesale  from  office,  and  their  places 
supplied  by  bitter  adversaries;  the  natural  anxiety  of  every  party 
in  power  to  maintain  cordial  relations  with  the  head  of  the  govern 
ment  chosen  by  its  votes,  —  these,  and  a  thousand  kindred  consider 
ations,  rendered  morally  certain  an  agreement  between  Congress 
and  the  President,  without  a  sacrifice  of  principle  on  either  hand,  if 
the  latter  should  sincerely  seek  it. 

"  I  speak  only  of  what  I  said  and  proposed,  because  I  have  no 
permission  and  no  right  to  speak  further.  That  my  suggestions 
were  not  followed,  nor  anything  akin  to  them,  the  public  sadly 
knows.  And  the  conclusion  to  which  I  have  been  most  reluctantly 
forced  is,  that  the  President  did  not  want  harmony  with  Congress, 
that  he  had  already  made  up  his  mind  to  break  with  the  party 
which  had  elected  him,  and  seek  a  further  lease  of  power  through 
the  favor  and  support  of  its  implacable  enemies." 

An  interesting  event  in  the  life  of  Horace  G-reeley,  and  in  the 
history  of  the  country,  occurred  in  May,  1867,  when  he  went  to 
Richmond  for  the  purpose  of  signing  the  bail-bond  which  restored 
to  liberty  Jefferson  Davis,  after  two  years'  confinement  in  Fortress 
Monroe.  "  I  went  to  Richmond,"  he  says,  "  and  signed  the  bond, 
simply  because  the  leading  counsel  for  the  prisoner  deemed  it  im 
portant.  If  any  other  name  would  have  answered  as  well,  they 
would  not  have  proffered  mine :  for  they  could  easily  have  given 
ten  millions  of  dollars,  all  of  it  by  men  who  were  worth  double  the 
amount  for  which  they  became  responsible,  and  each  of  whom 
would  have  esteemed  signing  the  bond  a  privilege.  But  the  coun 
sel  believed  it  eminently  desirable  that  they  should  present  some 
Northern  names,  of  men  who  had  been  conspicuous  opponents  of 
the  Rebellion;  perhaps  because  the  application  to  admit  to  bail 
would  otherwise  be  strenuously  resisted.  I  know  nothing  of  their 
reasons ;  I  only  know  that  they  would  not  have  required  me  to 
face  this  deluge  of  mud  if  they  had  not  believed  it  necessary." 

The  bond  was  for  the  sum  of  one  hundred  thousand  dollars,  and 
was  signed  by  twenty  persona,  among  whom  were  Horace  Gree- 
ley,  John  Minor  Botts,  Augustus  Schell,  G-erritt  Smith,  and  Cor 
nelius  Vanderbilt.  "  A  happier  looking  man,"  wrote  one  of  the 
reporters,  "  never  pledged  himself  for  another's  honor  than  Horace 


532  RECONSTRUCTION. 

Greeley  appeared,  as  he  took  the  pen  and  affixed  himself  as  surety 
upon  the  bond.  He  had  scarcely  laid  down  the  pen  and  turned 
from  the  clerk's  table,  when  Mr.  Davis  hastily  put  himself  in  his 
way,  and,  grasping  his  hand,  uttered  a  few  warm  words  of  ac 
knowledgment.  It  was  their  first  meeting,  and  he  returned  the 
pressure  and  ventured  to  hope,  in  a  few  homely  sentences,  that  he 
had  done  his  companion  an  essential  service. 

"  The  announcement  of  Judge  Underwood :  l  The  United  States 
Marshal  will  now  discharge  the  prisoner  from  custody,'  was  the 
signal  for  giving  vent  to  the  delight  that  had  been  so  imperfectly 
schooled  among  the  audience  during  the  early  progress  of  the  pro 
ceedings.  For  a  moment  the  din  was  terrific,  and  would  not  be 
subdued  by  any  amount  of  crying  the  peace  by  the  Marshal. 

"Mr.  Davis  was  seized,  congratulated,  and  sobbed  over,  and  in 
the  same  moment  hurried  from  the  court-room  to  the  street,  where 
a  thousand  people  were  uncovered  and  cheering  as  he  passed. 
Alighted  from  his  carriage  at  the  hotel,  the  crowd  demanded  audi 
ence,  and  for  two  hours  thereafter  poured  into  his  parlors,  so  tear 
ful  and  happy,  that  it  was  impossible  not  to  catch  the  infection. 
Later,  Mr.  Davis  drove  out  with  his  friends,  everywhere  encoun 
tering  cheers  and  congratulations  from  the  people  surrounding  his 
carriage-wheels  to  those  upon  the  house-tops." 

If  we  may  judge  from  the  Southern  newspapers,  this  act  of  the 
editor  of  the  Tribune  will  do  its  part  toward  the  reconciliation  of 
the  country.  The  Richmond  Whig  said :  — 

"  The  generous  course  pursued  toward  Mr.  Davis  yesterday  was  one  of  the 
most  effective  reconstruction  steps  yet  taken.  It  was  indeed  a  stride  in  that 
direction.  But  the  legal  action  taken  was  not  all  that  we  feel  called  upon  to 
notice.  That  action  was  accompanied  and  embellished  by  circumstances  of 
courtesy  and  cordial  generosity  from  Northern  and  Republican  gentlemen  of 
distinction  and  influence,  which  will  go  far  to  commend  them  to  the  grateful 
consideration  of  the  South.  They  joined  our  own  Virginians  in  both  bail- 
bonds  and  congratulations.  In  so  doing,  they  illustrated  their  magnanimity, 
and  in  one  moment  levelled  barriers  that  might  otherwise  have  remained  for 
years.  The  effect  of  yesterday's  work  will  be  felt  and  shown  throughout  the 
South,  or  we  much  mistake  Southern  character.  Let  us  all  show  that  North 
ern  generosity  is  the  true  avenue  to  Southern  friendship.  We  repeat,  a  great 
stride  was  yesterday  taken  in  the  line  of  reconstruction." 

The  Lynchburg  Virginian  held  the  following  language :  — 

"  We  hail  the  event  as  an  auspicious  one,  fraught  with  good,  and  recognize 


SPEECH   AT    RICHMOND.  533 

the  present  as  a  fortunate  time  for  both  sections  of  the  Union  to  set  out  with 
a  new  purpose,  to  bury  their  animosities,  and  meet  together  on  a  common 
ground  of  justice,  peace,  and  fraternity.  No  one,  we  are  sure,  would  do  more 
to  bring  about  such  a  result,  or  more  rejoice  at  it,  than  he  who  was  yesterday 
restored  to  the  free  air  of  heaven  from  the  confines  of  his  long  incarceration." 

A  Richmond  letter  published  in  the  Baltimore  Sun  contained  the 
following :  — 

"  The  effect  of  his  release  in  all  parts  of  the  State  has  been  not  only  cheer 
ing  and  exhilarating,  but  it  has  done  more  to  promote  good  feeling,  real  cor 
diality,  toward  the  North  and  toward  the  government,  than  any  event  which 
has  occurred  since  the  close  of  the  war.  I  have  not  seen  till  now  any  reason 
to  believe  that  the  South  would,  for  years,  do  more  than  accept  the  situation, 
and  content  herself  with  a  perfunctory  performance  of  the  obligations  she  has 
assumed;  but  the  release  of  Mr.  Davis  has  touched  the  Southern  heart,  and  I 
believe  that  it  is  at  this  moment  beating  strong  to  the  old  music  of  nationality 
and  brotherly  love.  The  appearance  in  court  of  Mr.  Horace  Greeley  and  Mr. 
Gerritt  Smith,  and  their  noble  interposition  in  behalf  of  Mr.  Davis,  have  had 
peculiar  influence  in  bringing  about  this  happy  result.  Our  people  look  upon 
them  as  representative  Northern  men,  and  the  hand  thus  stretched  out  to 
them  they  have  grasped  warmly.  This  time  it  is  no  dramatic  grasp,  but  pal 
pably  honest,  and  prompted  by  full  hearts." 

During  Mr.  Greeley's  stay  at  Richmond  he  was  invited  to  ad 
dress  a  public  meeting  at  the  African  Church,  which  is  usually  used 
for  political  meetings,  because  of  its  great  size.  The  main  body  of 
the  church  was  filled  with  the  most  respectable  citizens  of  Rich 
mond,  while  the  side  aisles  and  galleries  were  crowded  with  colored 
men.  Upon  being  introduced  to  the  audience  by  the  Governor  of 
the  State,  he  delivered  the  following  excellent  speech :  — 

"  FRIENDS  AND  FELLOW-CITIZENS:  —  I  did  not  understand  that  my  invita 
tion  to  speak  here  to-night,  hasty  and  informal  as  it  was,  was  the  dictate  es 
pecially  of  any  party  or  section  of  this  people.  I  understood  that  a  few  cit 
izens  of  different  views  —  perhaps  I  should  rather  say,  of  differing  antecedents 
—  wished  to  hear  me  on  the  present  aspect  of  our  public  affairs,  and  I  con 
sented  to  address  them.  Hence,  I  shall  not  regard  myself  as  speaking  here 
to-night  for  a  party  nor  to  a  party.  [Applause.]  I  shall  speak  as  a  citizen 
of  New  York  to  citizens  of  Virginia,  on  topics  which  concern  our  common  in 
terest,  our  common  country;  and,  while  I  shall  speak  with  entire  frankness, 
I  trust  you  will  realize  that  I  speak  in  a  spirit  of  kindness  to  all,  and  with  ref 
erence  to  the  feelings  of  all.  [Applause.] 

"'SHALL  THE  SWORD  DEVOUR  FOREVER?'  So  asked  of  old  a  Hebrew 
prophet,  standing  amid  the  ruins  of  his  desolated  country.  So  I,  an  American 
citizen,  standing  amid  some  of  the  ruins  of  our  great  civil  war,  encircled  by  a 
hundred  thousand  graves  of  men  who  fell  on  this  side  and  on  that,  in  obe- 


534  RECONSTRUCTION. 

dience  to  what  they  thought  the  dictates  of  duty  and  of  patriotism,  shall  speak 
in  the  spirit  of  that  prophet,  asking  you  whether  the  time  has  not  fully  come 
when  all  the  differences,  all  the  heart-burnings,  all  the  feuds  and  the  hatreds 
which  necessarily  grew  up  in  the  midst  of  our  great  struggle,  should  be  aban 
doned  forever  ?  [Applause.]  There  have  been  rivers  of  blood  shed;  there 
have  been  mountains  of  debt  piled  up ;  and  on  every  side  sacrifices,  sufferings, 
and  losses  attest  the  earnestness  and  the  sincerity  with  which  our  people 
fought  out  this  great  contest  to  its  final  conclusion. 

"  The  wise  king  said,  '  There  is  a  time  for  war  and  a  time  for  peace.'  I 
trust  the  time  for  war  has  wholly  passed,  —  that  the  time  for  peace  has  fully 
come.  What  obstacles  have  for  the  last  two  years  impeded,  what  obstacles 
still  impede,  the  full  realization  of  peace  to  this  country?  There  may  be 
what  is  called  peace,  which  is  only  a  mockery  of  peace,  when  people  of  dif 
ferent  sections  and  of  different  parties  in  a  great  struggle  still  look  distrust 
fully,  hatefully,  as  it  were,  upon  each  other,  and  are  unwilling  to  meet  and  to 
exchange  civilities.  There  may  be  an  enforced  quiet,  an  avoidance  of  posi 
tive  hostilities,  and  yet  no  peace,  no  real  peace.  What  is  it,  then,  that  has  so 
long  in  this  country  obstructed  the  advent  of  a  real  peace  ? 

"  The  war  for  or  against  the  Union  virtually  ended  with  the  surrender  of 
General  Lee's  army  more  than  two  years  ago.  Both  parties  felt  that  that  sur 
render  was  conclusive  of  the  struggle;  and,  while  much  had  been  idly  or 
boastingly  said  of  twenty  years  of  guerilla  war,  after  the  armies  should  be 
dispersed,  yet,  when  the  surrender  was  communicated  to  different  sections  of 
the  South,  the  people  everywhere  said,  '  This  is  the  end  of  the  war;  there  is 
no  use  in  struggling  any  longer.'  And,  according  to  ordinary  calculations, 
one  year  from  that  hour  should  have  seen  a  perfect  restoration  of  peace. 

"  Why  have  we  not  yet  realized  that  expectation  ? 

"  In  the  first  place,  when  the  national  party,  if  I  may  so  call  it,  —  the  party 
of  the  Union,  —  was  in  the  first  flush  of  a  perfect,  undivided  triumph,  an  as 
sassin's  blow  struck  down  the  Chief  Magistrate  of  the  nation.  I  would  be 
the  last  to  argue,  or  to  insinuate,  that  that  was  the  act  of  the  defeated  party 
in  the  nation.  [Applause.]  Still,  there  were  certain  facts  connected  with  it 
which  tended  to  give  an  exceedingly  malign  aspect  to  that  general  calamity. 
The  assassin  and  his  fellow-conspirators  were  violent,  vehement  partisans  of 
the  Southern  cause.  I  believe  one  of  them  had  fought  for  it;  while  they 
had  all  been  ardent  champions  of  the  principles  upon  which  it  was  founded, 
and  of  the  system  of  human  bondage  with  which  it  was  identified.  It  was  the 
act  of  men  who  were  heart  and  soul  with  the  Confederacy,  not  merely  in  its 
efforts,  but  in  its  fundamental  aspirations. 

"  As  the  news  was  flashed  across  the  country  that  its  Chief  had  been  stricken 
down  in  the  hour  of  general  exultation,  his  first  assistant  in  the  government 
even  more  foully  stabbed  and  mangled  on  a  bed  of  sickness  and  pain,  and  that 
co-ordinate  efforts  had  been  made  to  destroy  the  lives  of  other  heads  of  the 
government,  a  cry  of  wild  and  passionate  grief  and  wrath  arose  from  the  whole 
people.  Those  who  had  been  pleading  for  magnanimity  and  mercy  to  the 
conquered,  —  who  had  been  appealing  to  not  unwilling  ears  in  the  few  days 


SPEECH    AT    RICHMOND.  535 

intervening  between  the  close  of  the  war  and  the  occurrence  of  that  terrible 
calamity  —  were  silenced  in  a  moment  by  this  appalling  crime  committed 
upon  the  person  of  our  great  and  good  President.  The  nation  could  not  fairly 
consider,  amid  its  blind  rage  and  grief,  that  this  assassination  was  the  work 
of  a  few,  unauthorized  by  and  unknown  to  the  great  mass  of  those  against 
whom  their  fury  was  directed.  It  was  an  unspeakable  calamity,  —  a  calam 
ity  to  the  Southern  quite  as  much  as  to  the  Northern  part  of  the  country. 

"  The  military  trials  which  followed  that  event  —  which,  I  might  say,  com 
pleted  the  tragedy — were  gratifications  of  the  popular  wrath  which  rather 
tended  to  stimulate  than  to  appease  it.  They  were  the  expressions  of  what 
the  popular  heart  felt  and  desired  at  the  time.  For  my  part,  I  was  opposed  to 
them ;  and  I  trust  that  all  Americans  have,  by  this  time,  learned  to  regret  that 
the  regular  and  ordinary  tribunals  of  the  country  had  not  been  allowed  to  deal 
with  these  criminals  as  they  deal  with  others.  [Applause.] 

"  Before  the  popular  frenzy  had  had  time  to  subside,  there  assembled,  under 
the  military  order  of  the  President  of  the  United  States,  conventions  or  legis 
latures  in  the  several  Southern  States,  representing  only,  or  mainly,  those  who 
had  been  defeated  in  our  great  struggle.  I  say  the  Southern  conventions  or 
legislatures  which  then  met  represented  mainly  those  persons;  and  the  first 
aspect  presented  to  the  people  of  the  North  by  the  action  of  these  legislatures 
was  one  of  what  I  may  mildly  term  unfriendliness  toward  the  colored  portion 
of  the  people  of  the  South. 

"  I  am  not  here  to  discuss  what  absolutely  was,  but  what  was  very  appar 
ent  at  that  time.  The  Southern  legislatures  met,  and  began  at  once  either  to 
enact  or  revive  laws  discriminating  harshly  and  unjustly  against  the  colored 
people  of  the  South,  as  if  the  object  had  been  to  punish  them' for  their  sym 
pathy  with  the  Union  in  the  struggle  that  had  just  closed. 

"  I  will  here  merely  glance  at  the  substance  of  these  laws.  You  are  familiar 
with  them ;  for  some  of  them  were  passed  in  your  own  State.  There,  for  in 
stance,  are  the  laws  in  relation  to  marriages,  to  contracts  for  labor,  to  arms- 
bearing,  and  to  giving  testimony  in  courts,  which,  if  they  ever  had  been  neces 
sary  or  wise,  had  utterly  ceased  to  be  applicable  after  the  overthrow  of  slavery, 
and  the  institutions  based  upon  it.  I  will  not  detain  you  by  any  comments 
upon  these  laws,  but  will  content  myself  by  bringing  your  attention  to  two  of 
them,  which  have  been  revived  in  most  of  these  States. 

"  There  are,  first,  the  laws  forbidding  the  black  people  of  the  South  to  bear 
arms.  Now,  so  long  as  slavery  existed  here  and  in  the  other  States  of  the 
South,  it  was  perfectly  reasonable  and  proper,  so  far  as  anything  growing  out 
of  slavery  was  proper,  that  blacks  should  be  forbidden  to  have  arms  in  their 
hands.  You  may  find  fault  with  slavery,  but  you  cannot  find  fault  —  slavery 
being  admitted  as  a  fact —  with  slaveholding  legislatures  for  forbidding  the  col 
ored  people  to  hold  and  bear  arms.  It  was  not  deemed  compatible  with  public 
safety  that  blacks  should  be  allowed  to  keep  and  use  arms  like  white  persons. 
But,  the  moment  slavery  had  passed  away,  all  possible  pretexts  for  disarming 
Southern  blacks  passed  away  with  it.  Our  Federal  Constitution  gives  the 
right  to  the  people  everywhere  to  keep  and  bear  arms  ;  and  every  law  where- 


536  RECONSTRUCTION. 

by  any  State  legislature  undertakes  to  contravene  this,  being- in  conflict  with 
the  Constitution  of  the  United  States,  had  no  longer  any  legal  force.  And, 
when  it  was  seen  that  Confederate  soldiers  in  their  uniforms  of  gray  went 
around  to  black  men's  houses,  and  took  away  arms  which  they  had  earned  by 
fighting  for  the  Union,  and  which  had  been  assigned  to  them  for  honourable 
service,  what  covld  this  look  like  but  a  revival  of  the  Rebellion  V 

"  Then,  as  to  this  matter  of  testimony:  I  believe  that  sound,  enlightened 
jurists,  the  world  over,  are  agreed  that  it  is  the  true  rule  of  judicial  procedi7re 
to  admit  all  testimony,  and  allow  the  court  and  jury  to  decide  as  to  its  value. 
This  is  the  just  rule  with  regard  to  atheists,  to  children  of  tender  years,  to 
persons  of  evil  repute,  to  persons  presumed  to  be  half-wittedy  &c.  Let  wit 
nesses  of  all  sorts  and  characters  come  forward  and  testify,  and  an  enlightened 
judge,  an  intelligent  jury,  will  have  no  difficulty  in  determining  the  value  of 
the  evidence.  We  in  New  York  have  admitted  the  testimony  even  of  a  wife 
for  her  husband,  without  detriment,  so  far  as  can  be  ascertained,  to  the  cause 
of  justice.  There  should  be  »0  exclusion  from  a  privilege  so  palpably  just 
and  fair  as  this,  especially  when  a  discretion  always  remains  with  the  court 
and  jury  before  whom  the  testimony  is  given  to  regard  it  favorably  or  other 
wise.  When  legislatures  came  together  in  this  State  and  others,  and  pro 
ceeded  to  enact  or  revive  laws  to  establish  that  a  black  person  may  give  testi 
mony  in  controversies  between  two  blacks,  or  possibly  between  a  black  and 
white,  yet  not  in  a  suit  between  two  whites,  the  common  sense  of  the  country 
was  insulted,  and  its  feelings  outraged,  by  this  odious  and  plainly  arbitrary  re 
striction.  For,  when  you  say  a  black  is  fit  to  give  testimony  in  a  case  be 
tween  a  black  and  a  white  man,  you  must  realize  that  he  is  at  least  as  well 
qualified  to  give  testimony  in  a  controversy  between  two  whites,  where  it  is 
probable  he  would  have  no  such  bias  or  partiality  as  he  might  have  if  one  of 
the  parties  were  black. 

"  I  say,  all  these  laws,  invidious,  unnecessary,  and  degrading  as  they  were, 
looked  to  the  people  of  the  North  like  a  revival  of  the  Rebellion  in  a  more  in 
sidious  and  a  good  deal  less  manly  aspect  than  it  wore  on  the  heights  of  Fred- 
ericksburg  and  in  the  valley  of  the  Chickamauga.  It  looked  to  us  at  the 
North,  as  if  men  who  had  been  beaten  in  fair,  stand-up  fight  chose  to  revive 
the  contest  in  such  a  manner  that  they  could  annoy  and  irritate  ns  without 
exposing  themselves  to  the  perils  of  battle  or  the  penalties  of  treason.  I  say 
that  this  legislation,  which  prevailed  more  or  less  throughout  the  States  of  the 
Scuth,  was  one  of  the  chief  obstacles,  and  is  one  of  the  still  remaining  impedi 
ments,  to  an  e^rly  and  genuine  reconstruction  of  the  Union. 

"  I  need  not  more  than  allude  to  the  deplorable  outrages  at  Memphis  and 
New  Orleans,  which  seemed  to  indicate  the  animus  to  this  course  of  oppressive 
class-legislation.  You  may  not  probnbly  know  to  how  great  an  extent  the 
public  feeling  and  the  elections  of  the  North  in  the  year  1866  were  affected  by 
what  we  call  the  New  Orleans  massacre.  I  don't  care  to  argue  or  assume 
that  those  who  were  the  victims  of  those  outrages  were  entirely  right,  nor  that 
their  adversaries  or  slaughterers  were  wholly  wrong.  It  was  a  fact  that  the 
colored  people  of  Louisiana  were  trying  to  get  the  right  of  suffrage,  and  by 


SPEECH    AT    RICHMOND.  537 

means  which  their  friends  thought  legitimate.  The  other  party,  however, 
thought  otherwise ;  and  instead  of  referring  the  matter  to  the  general  in  com 
mand,  or  to  some  peaceful  tribunal,  the  reassembling  of  the  old  Constitutional 
Convention  was  made  the  pretext  for  an  attack,  which  resulted  in  the  slaugh 
ter  of  some  scores  of  American  citizens,  and  in  a  very  stern,  sad  revulsion  of 
public  sentiment  to  the  prejudice  of  those  of  you  who  had  been  in  arms  against 
the  Union.  These  outrages,  this  unwise  and  invidious  legislation,  fixed  in  the 
minds,  I  will  not  say  of  a  majority  of  the  people  of  the  North,  but  in  the  minds 
of  a  very  large  proportion  of  the  wise,  intelligent,  and  conscientious  people  of 
the  North,  a  conviction  which  I  think  will  not  easily  be  shaken,  that  there 
can  be  no  real  peace  in  the  Union,  that  there  can  be  no  true  reconstruction, 
without  the  hearty  admission  on  the  part  of  the  Southern  States,  and  the 
securing  on  the  part  of  the  nation,  of  the  right  of  all  men  to  be  governed  by 
equal  laws,  and  to  have  an  equal  voice  in  making  and  administering  those 
laws.  [Applause.]  I  will  not  say  that  we  who  so  hold  constitute  a  great  ma 
jority  of  the  Northern  people;  but  I  will  say  that  we  are  very  many  more  than 
we  were  prior  to  the  anti-negro  enactments  of  Mr.  Johnson's  legislatures  in 
the  Southern  States,  and  before  the  outrages  of  1866  at  Memphis  and  at  New 
Orleans.  I  think  that,  before  these  collisions  were  reported  to  the  North,  the 
conviction  was  fixed  in  a  great  many  minds,  as  it  now  is  in  a  great  many 
more,  that  no  reconstruction  would  be  real  and  enduring  which  did  not  in 
clude  guaranties  for  the  rights  of  the  colored  people  of  the  South;  and  when  I 
say  rights,  I  mean  their  equal  rights  with  any  and  all  other  persons.  [Ap 
plause  by  the  negroes.]  It  is  a  very  common  remark,  and  a  very  true  one, 
that  the  North  is  in  honor  bound  to  guarantee  the  liberties  of  the  black  people 
of  this  country,  because  of  their  conduct  during  our  great  war.  I  have  no 
doubt  that  this  is  true ;  yet  I  deem  it  but  half  the  truth.  I  hold  the  South 
equally  bound  to  secure  the  same  result,  because  of  the  conduct  of  the  blacks 
toward  the  whites  of  the  South  in  that  same  civil  war. 

"  I  fully  admit  the  obligations  of  the  North  (or  the  nation)  to  the  blacks. 
Some  may  exaggerate  their  services,  others  unduly  depreciate  them;  but 
there  was  the  general  fact,  that,  whereas,  in  the  beginning  of  the  war,  when 
nothing  was*  said  about  emancipation,  the  blacks  of  the  South  shouted  with 
their  masters  without  knowing  much  about  the  cause  of  the  war,  yet,  as  the 
struggle  proceeded  and  became  more  deadly,  and  the  North  found  itself  obliged 
to  proclaim  emancipation  as  a  means  of  putting  down  the  resistance  at  the 
South,  the  sympathies  of  the  colored  people  of  the  South,  however  silently  ex 
pressed,  became  from  that  hour  more  and  more  decided  and  unanimous  on 
the  side  of  the  Union.  They  did  not  at  first  comprehend  the  contest;  and  yet 
thousands,  from  mere  instinct,  from  what  they  heard  at  Southern  barbecues 
and  in  their  masters'  houses,  learned  that  the  war  on  the  part  of  the  South  was 
a  war  for  slavery;  and  they  naturally  argued  that  the  war  on  the  part  of  the 
North  either  was  or  must  become  a  war  for  freedom.  [Applause.]  Now, 
then,  I  say  that,  while  the  North  is  under  obligations  to  those  people  for  thou 
sands  of  acts  of  kindness  toward  our  soldiers,  who  were  sometimes  scattered 
as  fugitives  in  a  hostile  territory,  and  for  acts  of  positive  aid  on  the  battle-field 


538  RECONSTRUCTION. 

and  in  the  camp,  the  South  also  owes  a  debt  of  gratitude  to  these  people  for 
their  general  fidelity  and  good-will,  as  well  as  good  sense,  displayed  in  resist 
ing  every  temptation  to  take  advantage  of  their  masters'  extremity  to  achieve 
at  any  cost  their  own  liberties.  I  believe  Southern  men  will  do  the  blacks  of 
the  South  the  justice  to  say,  that  very  often  whole  neighborhoods  were  almost 
stripped  of  white  men  of  any  considerable  force,  and  lay  wholly  at  the  mercy 
of  those  white  men's  slaves.  These  knew  what  the  contest  meant;  they  knew 
that  they  might,  if  they  chose  to  do  so,  commit  massacre,  and,  having  deso 
lated  their  masters'  households,  they  might  fly  to  the  Yankees,  by  whom  they 
reasonably  hoped  to  be  protected.  But  I  do  not  know,  out  of  the  ten  thousand 
instances  where  these  temptations  were  presented,  that  there  were  even  five 
cases  in  all  where  they  were  not  resisted.  You  heard  it  said  that  Mr.  Lincoln's 
proclamation  was  intended  to  put  the  knife  to  the  throats  of  all  the  Southern 
whites,  —  that  it  was  a  general  proclamation  of  liberty  to  kill  and  burn  and 
ravage  throughout  the  South.  In  that  light,  it  was  held  up  to  general  repro 
bation.  I  ask  you  all  to  bear  witness,  that  this  prediction  was  nowhere  justi 
fied  by  the  event.  The  colored  people  of  the  South  who  were  still  held  as 
slaves  uniformly  felt  that  their  affection  for  their  masters  and  their  families 
was  such,  that  they  would  be  felons  and  outlaws,  murderers  and  criminals  of 
the  deepest  dye,  if  they  should  take  advantage  of  their  masters'  absence  in 
the  war,  to  abuse  their  families.  The  Southern  whites  ought  to  feel,  and  I 
trust  that  many  of  them  do  feel,  gratitude  toward  the  colored  people  for  their 
general  deportment  throughout  the  war.  The  blacks  often  ran  away  to  the 
Union  armies  and  enlisted  there;  but  they  took  no  undue  advantage  of  the 
opportunities  offered  by  their  masters'  distress  or  their  masters'  absence. 
[Applause.] 

"  Fellow-citizens,  there  have  been  many  instances  wherein  men  held  in  slav 
ery  have  been  instantly  or  gradually,  by  one  means  or  another,  emancipated, 
but  I  don't  remember  any  instance  where  a  fettered  race  was  liberated  from 
slavery,  and  yet  kept  for  generations  in  a  servile,  abject,  degraded  condition. 
There  is  the  great  slaveholding  Empire  of  Brazil,  —  always  slaveholding  since 
it  had  any  consequence  at  all,  —  wherein  men  who  are  slaves  to-day  may  be 
free  to-morrow,  and  thenceforth  eligible  to  any  trust,  any  office,  being  voters 
and  citizens,  precisely  as  though  born  free  and  white.  Such  was  the  course 
pursued  by  Great  Britain  in  respect  to  the  slaves  emancipated  in  her  colonies. 
Slavery  is  one  thing,  freedom  another.  But  there  is  an  intermediate  condition, 
which  is  neither  slavery  nor  liberty,  that  incites  all  the  energy  and  aspiration 
of  freemen,  and  yet  involves  more  than  half  the  disabilities  of  the  slave.  Such 
n,  condition  as  that,  I  believe,  was  never  long  maintained  or  endured  in  any 
civilized  country.  And  yet  that  seems  to  be  the  condition  which  the  domi 
nant  race  in  the  South  destined  the  blacks  to  occupy  by  the  legislation  of 
1865-66,  —  a  condition  which  is  neither  slavery  nor  freedom,  and  one  which 
men  partly  educated,  and  who  felt  themselves  to  a  certain  extent  emancipated, 
would  find  utterly  unbearable. 

"  Let  me  here  meet  an  objection  which  is  sometimes  offered.  Some  nr>n 
say/  The  black  people  of  the  South  are,  to  a  great  extent,  ignorant  and  de- 


SPEECH    AT    RICHMOND.  539 

graded:  how  then  can  you  insist  that  they  are  qualified  to  enjoy  all  the  priv 
ileges  of  citizens?  '  I  say  if  you  make  ignorance  a  uniform  ground  of  exclu 
sion  from  political  power,  I  can  comprehend  the  justice  of  your  rule,  your 
objection.  But  so  long  as  ignorance  or  degradation  is  no  bar  to  citizenship 
as  to  white  men,  I  protest  against  making  it  a  bar  to  suffrage  on  the  part  of 
black  men,  who  have  excuses  for  ignorance  which  white  men  have  not.  [Ap 
plause.] 

"  But  then,  there  are  peculiar  reasons  why  this  race  among  us  should  have 
its  liberties  secured  by  the  most  stringent,  firmest  guaranties.  They  are,  and 
must  remain,  to  some  extent,  a  separate  and  peculiar  people  in  the  land.  They 
will  be  exposed  at  every  step  to  perils  and  antipathies  which  other  men  are 
not,  not  only  because  of  their  color,  but  because  of  their  weakness  as  well. 
For  they  are  not  only  a  minority  of  our  people,  but  their  numerical  impor 
tance  is  steadily  declining.  When  our  first  Federal  census  was  taken,  in  1790, 
they  were  nearly  a  fifth  of  our  entire  population ;  when  our  last  census  was 
taken,  in  1860,  they  were  but  an  eighth:  and  the  child  is  now  born  who  will 
see  them  no  more  than  a  twentieth.  I  do  not  believe  that  they  will  prove  un 
able  to  hold  their  ground  among  us  as  freemen,  nor  that  they  will  prove  less 
prolific  in  freedom  than  in  bondage.  But  there  is  no  African  immigration  to 
this  country,  and  never  has  been  any  voluntary  immigration  of  negroes  to  any 
region  outside  of  the  tropics.  They  may  be  dragged  into  the  temperate  zone 
in  fetters,  as  they  have  been ;  but  in  freedom,  their  tendency  is  wholly  the 
other  way.  And,  on  the  other  hand,  the  waves  of  a  great  and  steadily  swell 
ing  European  immigration  are  constantly  breaking  on  onr  shores,  depositing 
here  some  250,000  persons  per  annum,  mainly  in  the  prime  of  youthful  vigor. 
By  this  gigantic  influx  the  character  of  our  population  is  being  constantly 
modified,  so  that  the  blacks,  now  a  majority  in  two  or  three  States,  will  soon 
be  a  minority  in  each,  and  an  inconsiderable,  powerless  fraction  of  our  whole 
people.  The  present,  therefore,  is  the  accepted  time  to  secure  their  rights, 
when  there  is  a  public  interest  felt  in  them,  and  when  there  are  obligations 
of  honor  incumbent  upon  the  whole  country  which  it  cannot  well  disregard 
Their  equal  rights  as  citizens  are  to  be  secured  now  or  not  at  all.  I  insist, 
then,  in  the  name  of  justice  and  humanity,  in  the  name  of  our  country,  and 
of  every  righteous  i-nterest  and  section  of  that  country,  that  the  rights  of  all 
the  American  people  —  native  or  naturalized,  born  such  or  made  such  —  shall 
be  guaranteed  in  the  State  constitutions  first,  and  in  the  Federal  Constitution 
so  soon  as  possible,  —  that  we  make  it  a  fundamental  condition  of  American 
law  and  policy,  that  every  citizen  shall  have,  in  the  eye  of  the  law,  every  right 
of  every  other  citizen.  [Applause.]  I  would  make  the  equal  rights  of  the  col 
ored  people  of  the  country,  under  the  laws  and  the  constitutions  thereof,  the 
corner-stone  of  a  true,  beneficent  reconstruction.  [Applause.]  I  wish  to  be 
done  with  the  topic  at  once  and  forever.  I  wish  to  have  it  disposed  of  and 
out  of  the  way,  so  that  we  can  go  on  to  other  topics  and  other  interests  that 
demand  our  attention.  I  long  to  say  that  we  have  settled  forever  the  question 
of  black  men's  rights  by  imbedding  them  in  the  constitutions  of  the  States  and 
the  nation,  so  that  thev  cannot  be  disturbed  evermore.  If  this  had  been 


540  RECONSTRUCTION. 

promptly  and  heartily  done  two  years  ago,  when  the  Johnson  legislatures  of 
the  South  first  assembled,  every  State  of  the  South  would  have  been  in  the 
Union  ere  this,  and  every  apprehension  of  penalties  to  be  inflicted  on  the  peo 
ple  of  the  South  would  have  been  banished  forever. 

u  But  it  is  said  that  there  are  Republican  States,  or  States  under  Republican 
rulers,  which  have  not  granted  to  the  blacks  their  full  rights.  That  is  dis 
gracefully  true.  The  great  mass  of  the  Republicans  have  always  insisted 
that  black  enfranchisement  was  a  necessity,  and  have  uniformly  insisted  that 
it  should  be  effected.  We  have  been  resisted,  and  to  some  extent  overborne, 
by  a  mere  shred  of  our  party  combining  with  the  Democrats  to  defeat  us. 
Still,  public  sentiment  has  steadily  improved,  until  nearly  every  Republican 
in  the  North,  with  many  who  have  acted  with  the  Democrats,  now  heartily 
favor  a  national  guaranty  of  all  rights  to  all.  [Applause.] 

"  If  there  be  any  who  think  the  Republican  party  ought  to  be  dissolved. 
—  if  there  be  one  present  who  desires  that  it  should  get  out  of  the  way  to  give 
room  for  new  combinations,  —  I  say  to  him,  help  us  to  finish  this  controversy 
by  imbedding  in  every  constitution  (State  or  national)  a  provision  that  every 
citizen  shall  have  all  the  legal  rights  of  every  other  citizen,  and  no  more.  Let 
us  be  done  with  this  matter,  and  then  we  can  move  on  to  what  may  be  the 
next  question  in  order.  [Applause.] 

"  I  come  now  to  proscription  as  another  obstacle,  impediment,  or  whatever 
you  may  choose  to  call  it,  to  the  reconciliation  of  the  Southern  people  to  the 
Union.  It  is  asked,  and  very  cogently,  '  How  can  you  expect  us  to  be  recon 
ciled  to  a  government  Avhich  denies  us  the  right  to  vote  or  to  hold  office  under 
it  ? '  A  very  fair  question.  In  my  judgment,  there  is  no  reason  why  any 
man  who.  to-day,  is  a  thoroughly  loyal  and  faithful  citizen  of  the  United 
States,  should  be  restrained  from  voting.  This,  however,  is  a  matter  which 
rests  entirely  with  Congress ;  and  what  I  offer  are  my  own  private  views.  It 
is  just  and  wise  to  disfranchise  men  who  are  still  disloyal,  and  who  desire 
that  disloyal  men  should  obtain  the  mastery  of  this  country.  I  deny  that 
those  who  are  implacably  hostile  to  the  national  authority,  —  who  are  wan 
dering  off  to  Brazil,  to  Mexico,  &c.  —  have  any  natural  right  to  a  voice  in 
the  government  of  the  country.  And  that  there  is  a  class  in  the  South  who 
7nerely  submit  or  acquiesce,  —  who  are  reconciled  only  so  far  that  they  don't 
choose  to  put  themselves  in  the  way  of  punishment,  —  there  can  be  very  little 
doubt.  I  hope  the  number  of  this  class  is  comparatively  small  now,  and  that 
it  is  daily  diminishing.  May  I  not  hope  that  the  doings  in  this  city  this  week 
have  contributed  somewhat  to  diminish  its  numbers  ?  The  government  should 
see  that  these  dissatisfied  men  have  no  control  in  the  country.  The  people 
should  deny  to  any  man  who  would  divide  the  country,  or  refuses  to  be  recon 
ciled  to  it,  a  share  in  its  government.  I  accept  the  proscription  embodied  in 
the  military  reconstruction  act  of  Congress,  only  as  a  precaution  against  pres 
ent  disloyalty ;  and  I  believe  the  nation  will  insist  on  such  proscription  being 
removed,  so  soon  as  reasonable  and  proper  assurances  are  given  that  disloyalty 
has  ceased  to  be  powerful  and  dangerous  in  the  Southern  States. 

"  Then  as  to  the  qxiestion  of  confiscation,  what  is  to  be  said  ?    What  is  the 


SPEECH   AT   RICHMOND.  541 

truth  about  confiscation  ?  I  have  been  told,  since  I  came  here,  that  the  col 
ored  people  of  this  city  and  the  State  were  refusing  to  buy  for  themselves 
homes,  because  they  were  imbued  with  the  belief  that  Congress  would  very 
soon  confiscate  and  distribute  the  lands  of  the  Rebels  of  this  State,  and  give 
each  of  them  a  share.  If  this  be  so,  I  beg  you  to  believe  that  you  are  more 
likely  to  earn  a  home  than  get  one  by  any  form  of  confiscation.  I  have  no 
right  to  speak  for  Congress,  and  cannot  say  what  it  will  do ;  but  I  have  a  right 
to  say  what  Congress  has  done.  Now  we  have  had,  since  the  war  closed,  two 
years  of  violent  political  contest.  Acts  have  been  done  and  feelings  evinced 
in  the  South  within  those  years  which  were  strongly  calculated  to  irritate  the 
overwhelming  majority  in  Congress.  Then  there  has  been  at  the  head  —  per 
haps  I  should  say  the  head  and  foot — of  the  movement  for  confiscation  the 
very  ablest  as  well  as  the  oldest  member  of  Congress,  Thaddeus  Stevens  of 
Pennsylvania,  one  of  the  strongest  men  who  has  been  seen  in  Congress  at  any 
time,  and  who  has  achieved  great  influence  at  the  North  by  forty  years  of 
uncompromising  warfare  against  every  species  of  human  bondage.  He  has 
been  the  recognized  leader  of  the  House  for  the  last  six  or  eight  years.  Mr. 
Stevens  has  made  speeches  for  confiscation,  first,  to  his  constituents ;  next,  in 
Congress ;  and  he  has  lately  written  a  letter  condemning  those  men  who  are 
'peddling  out  amnesty,'  and  insisting  upon  confiscation.  But  if  any  other 
member  of  Congress  has  gravely  proposed  any  measure  of  confiscation  at  all, 
I  don't  remember  the  fact;  and  if  any  committee  of  either  house  has  reported 
any  scheme  of  confiscation  since  the  close  of  the  war,  I  am  not  aware  of  it.  I 
say  no  bill  has  been  even  reported  which  proposed  to  take  away  the  property 
of  persons  merely  because  they  have  been  Rebels,  and  give  it  to  others  because 
they  were  loyal.  These  are  the  facts  in  the  past.  You  can  judge  of  the  future 
as  well  as  I  can.  I  don't  mean  to  say  that  Congress  could  not  be  provoked  to 
decree  confiscation  by  menaces  of  violence  and  acts  of  outrage  at  the  South. 
I  don't  pretend  to  know  what  Congress  may  do  under  some  conceivable  cir 
cumstances  ;  I  state  what  it  has  done  and  has  intimated  its  purpose  to  do,  so 
far  as  I  can  speak  from  knowledge  and  recollection. 

"  Let  me  speak  for  myself  only  as  to  the  general  policy  of  confiscation.  If 
half  the  vacant,  waste  lands  of  the  South  could  be  instantly  distributed  among 
the  landless,  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  effect  would  be  beneficent.  I  think 
that  such  an  allotment  of  a  small  farm  to  every  poor  man  would  do  good  to 
the  many  and  no  real  harm  to  the  few.  But,  when  you  come  to  the  practical 
work  of  confiscation,  it  will  be  found  a  very  tedious  process  that  years  would 
be  required  to  consummate.  And,  meantime,  what  is  to  become  of  those  who 
must  live  by  their  daily  labor?  Who  is  to  fence  and  cultivate  the  land?  What 
is  to  become  of  the  great  mass  of  the  poor  who  must  live  by  cultivating  the 
earth  ?  When  we  reflect  upon  the  general  devastation  of  the  South,  by  reason 
of  the  turmoil  and  ravage  of  war,  and  consider  how  all  industry  would  be 
paralyzed  by  the  prospect  and  the  process  of  confiscation,  we  shall  realize  that 
inevitable  evils  of  confiscation  are  too  great  to  justify  an  experiment  of  this 
character.  In  my  judgment,  any  general  confiscation  will  produce  general 
bankruptcy  and  desolating  famine.  I  judge  that  the  evils  of  such  confiscation 
exceed  all  that  have  been  experienced  by  the  country  in  all  its  past  convulsions. 


542  RECONSTRUCTION. 

"Again:  Mr.  Stevens  proposes  to  pay  five  hundred  million  dollars  into  the 
treasury  bv  a  '  mild  process  of  confiscation.'  I  do  not  know  what  could  be 
done  in  this  way;  but  I  am  very  confident  that  all  the  confiscations  that  have 
ever  taken  place  since  men  first  went  to  war  have  not  altogether  resulted  in 
putting  five  hundred  million  dollars  into  the  public  treasuries  of  nations.  I  do 
not  speak  of  those  confiscations  whereby  some  great  conquerors  seized  and 
appropriated  the  treasures  and  jewels  of  an  Oriental  king;  I  speak  of  the  con 
fiscation  of  individual  property  in  the  shape  of  lands  and  houses.  Individuals 
have  grown  enormously  rich  by  confiscation,  have  secured  to  themselves  duke 
doms  and  principalities ;  but  they  were  the  men  who  worked  the  machinery 
[applause  and  laughter] ;  the  great  mass  derived  no  benefit,  or  very  little,  from 
their  plunder.  How  much  better  are  our  functionaries  to-day  ? 

"  Now,  as  to  providing  poor  men  with  lands  by  any  such  process  as  this.  I 
admit  the  premise  that  the  poor  should  have  lands.  I  have  for  many  years 
advocated  the  policy  of  allowing  every  poor  man  to  help  himself  to  a  portion 
of  the  public  lands  upon  the  easiest  terms.  There  are  hundreds  of  millions  of 
acres  still  belonging  to  the  Republic  in  the  South  as  well  as  in  the  North  and 
West,  —  in  Louisiana,  Alabama,  Mississippi,  Arkansas,  as  well  as  in  States 
farther  north.  These  lands  are  public  property,  and  one  hundred  and  sixty 
acres  of  them  are  offered  to  actual  settlers  on  the  payment  of  ten  dollars, 
which  is  charged  to  cover  the  expense  of  surveys,  deeds,  &c.  I  have  always 
been  in  favor  of  encouraging  settlement  upon  the  public  lands,  and  I  am  of  the 
opinion  now  that  it  will  be  easier  and  much  wiser  for  the  colored  man  to 
acquire  a  home  in  this  form  than  be  vainly  awaiting  the  possible  chance  of 
acquiring  one  by  confiscation. 

"  I  may  speak  confidently  of  what  has  occurred  in  other  lands ;  and  I  say 
confidently  that  confiscation  has  rarely  or  never  aided  the  poor  to  secure 
homes  any  more  than  it  has  filled  treasuries.  It  has  bred  deadly  feuds  and 
perpetuated  class  hatreds.  Many  of  the  lands  confiscated  in  Ireland  two  cen 
turies  ago  by  Cromwell  are  yet  the  occasion  of  strife  and  bitterness:  the  heirs 
of  the  original  owners  believing  themselves  to-day  justly  entitled  to  those  lands, 
and  that  any  means  of  recovering  them,  rebellion  inclusive,  would  be  justifiable. 

;'  I  believe  no  man  who  is  the  true  friend  of  our  colored  people  would  advise 
them  to  help  themselves  to  the  lands  which  had  been  wrested  from  their  white 
neighbors  by  confiscation.  I  will  not  further  insist  upon  the  fact  that  confis 
cation  shrivels  and  paralyzes  the  industry  of  the  whole  community  subjected 
to  its  influence;  but,  in  my  judgment,  if  all  the  property  of  the  Southern  States 
were  taken  by  confiscation  to-morrow,  and  put  up  at  auction,  you  could  not 
get  five  hundred  millions  of  dollars  out  of  it  and  into  the  treasury.  How  fraud 
and  perjury  would  flourish,  what  mountains  of  falsehood  would  be  conjured 
up  by  the  presence  of  general  confiscation,  I  need  not  say.  Instantly,  every 
one  who  apprehended  danger  to  his  property  would  make  a  sham  sale  or  trans 
fer  of  it  to  some  loyal  cousin  or  nephew  whom  he  thinks  he  can  trust,  to  be 
kept  until  the  proper  time  for  its  safe  restoration;  when  he  might  find  that  his 
trusted  relative  had  concluded  to  keep  it.  So  it  has  been,  so  it  would  be.  All 
manner  of  deceit,  fraud,  corruption,  and  miscellaneous  iniquity  flourishes  in 
trie  presence  of  any  attempt  at  general  confiscation. 


SrEECII   AT   RICHMOND.  543 

"  I  do  not  approve  of  appeals  to  any  particular  class,  and  I  make  no  claim 
to  be  a  special  friend  of  the  colored  people ;  but  this  I  say,  friends  and  coun 
trymen,  since  I  have  been  here  I  have  been  more  than  ever  before  impressed 
with  the  exceeding  cheapness  of  Virginia  lands.  I  believe  there  are  lands  selling 
to-day  near  this  city  at  ten  dollai's  per  acre,  which  will  be  worth  in  a  few  years 
ten  times  that  price ;  and  I  say  to  all,  if  you  can  buy  lands  in  Virginia  and  pay 
for  them,  buy  them ;  for  they  are  certain  to  be  dearer  in  the  early  future.  I 
am  confident  buying  lands  is  the  cheapest  way  of  getting  them.  I  am  confi 
dent  that  buying  these  lands  is  the  cheapest  possible  mode  of  securing  a  home 
stead.  Carlyle  says  that  the  great  mistake  of  Rob  Roy  was  his  failure  to  re 
alize  that  he  could  obtain  his  beef  cheaper  in  the  grass  market  of  Glasgow  than 
by  harrying  the  lowlands ;  and  he  will  repeat  that  mistake  who  fails  to  secure 
a  farm  by  purchase  to-day  in  Virginia,  because  he  hopes  to  obtain  one  under 
some  future  act  of  confiscation. 

"  I  urge  you,  poor  men  of  Virginia,  whether  white  or  black,  to  secure  your 
selves  homes  of  your  own  forthwith.  If  you  can  buy  them  here,  do  so,  before 
the  coming  influx  of  immigration  shall  have  rendered  lands  too  dear.  If  not, 
strike  off  to  the  public  lands,  South,  North,  and  West,  and  hew  out  for  your 
selves  homes  as  my  ancestors  did  in  New  Hampshire,  and  as  millions  have  done 
throughout  the  country.  Become  land-owners,  all  of  you,  so  soon  as  you 
may.  Own  something  which  you  can  call  a  home.  It  will  give  you  a  deeper 
feeling  of  independence  and  of  self-respect,  and  do  not  wait  to  obtain  a  home 
by  confiscation.  [Applause.] 

" '  Well,'  says  a  Conservative,  '  what  you  mean  by  all  your  talk  is,  that  we 
may  get  back  to  self-government  and  representation  in  Congress,  if  we  all  be 
come  Republicans  arid  vote  the  Radical  ticket.'  No,  sir,  I  do  not  mean  that. 
I  heartily  wish  you  were  all  Republicans ;  for  I  believe  the  Republican  party, 
while  it  has  made  some  mistakes,  and  includes  perhaps  its  fair  share  of  the 
fools  and  rascals,  does  yet  embody  the  nobler  instincts  and  more  generous  as 
pirations  of  the  American  people.  But  many  of  you  are  not  Republicans ;  and 
I  do  not  seek  the  votes  of  these  for  my  ticket,  except  in  so  far  as  they  shall  be 
heartily  converted  to  my  faith.  I  expect  the  rest  to  vote  what  they  call  the* 
Conservative  ticket;  and  I  ask  of  them  only:  1.  That  they  interpose  no  ob 
stacle  to  any  man's  voting  the  Republican  ticket  who  wants  to;  and,  2.  That 
they  select  from  their  own  ranks  men  who  can  take  the  oath  prescribed  by 
Congress,  so  that  then-  choice  shall  nowise  emban-ass  nor  impede  an  early  and 
complete  reconstruction.  Your  way  to  restoration  lies  through  the  gate  of 
obedience,  and  I  entreat  you  to  take  it  promptly  and  heartily. 

"  Men  of  Virginia !  I  entreat  you  to  forget  the  years  of  slavery,  and  seces 
sion,  and  civil  war,  now  happily  past,  in  the  hopeful  contemplation  of  the  bet 
ter  days  of  freedom  and  union  and  peace,  now  opening  before  you.  Forget 
that  some  of  you  have  been  masters,  others  slaves,  —  some  for  disunion,  others 
against  it,  —  and  remember  only  that  you  are  Virginians,  and  all  now  and 
henceforth  freemen.  Bear  in  mind  that  your  State  is  the  heart  of  a  great 
Republic,  not  the  frontier  of  a  weaker  Confederacy,  and  that  your  unequalled 
combination  of  soil,  timber,  minerals,  and  water-power  fairly  entitle  you  to  a 


544  RECONSTRUCTION. 

population  of  five  millions  before  the  close  of  this  century.  Consider  that  the 
natural  highway  of  empire  —  the  shortest  and  easiest  route  from  the  Atlantic 
to  the  heart  of  the  great  valley — lies  up  the  James  River  and  down  the  Kan- 
awha,  and  that  this  city,  with  its  mill-power  superior  to  any  other  in  our  coun 
try  but  that  of  St.  Anthony's  Falls  on  the  Mississippi,  ought  to  insure  you  a 
speedy  development  of  manufactures  surpassing  any  Lowell  or  Lawrence,  with 
a  population  of  at  least  half  a  million,  before  the  close  of  this  century.  I  ex 
hort  you,  then,  Republicans  and  Conservatives,  whites  and  blacks,  to  bury 
the  dead  past  in  mutual  and  hearty  good-will,  and  in  a  general,  united  effort 
to  promote  the  prosperity  and  exalt  the  glory  of  our  long-distracted  and  bleed 
ing,  but  henceforth  reunited,  magnificent  country !  " 

If  there  were  those  among  the  Republicans  of  the  Northern 
States  who  disliked  to  see  the  editor  of  the  Tribune  assisting  in  the 
release  of  Jefferson  Davis,  there  were  none  who  could  be  insensi 
ble  to  the  good  sense  and  humanity  of  the  speech  which  he  was 
thus  enabled  to  deliver  in  the  capital  of  the  late  Confederacy.  It 
appears  to  have  astonished  the  people  of  Richmond,  who  have 
been  hating  an  imaginary  Horace  Greeley  for  twenty-five  years, 
to  find  that  he  was  a  human  being.  "  We  would  not  object,"  said 
the  Richmond  Whig,  "  to  have  him  upon  the  jury  if  we  were  to  be 
tried." 

Upon  his  return  to  New  York,  Mr.  Greeley  discovered  that  a 
large  number  of  the  Republican  journals  were  criticising  his  con 
duct  with  severity,  while  others  were  damning  him  with  faint 
praise.  The  action  of  some  members  of  the  Union  League  Club 
of  the  city  of  New  York,  of  which  he  is  a  member,  called  out 
the  following  letter :  — 

"BY  THESE  PRESENTS,  GREETING! 

"To  MESSRS.  GEORGE  W.  BLUNT,  JOHN  A.  KENNEDY,  JOHN  0.  STONE, 
STEPHEN  HYATT,  and  thirty  others,  members  of  the  Union 
League  Club :  — 

"  GENTLEMEN  :  —  I  was  favored,  on  the  16th  instant,  by  an  official 
note  from  our  ever-courteous  President,  John  Jay,  notifying  me 
that  a  requisition  had  been  presented  to  him  for  '  a  special  meeting 
of  the  Club  at  an  early  day,  for  the  purpose  of  taking  into  consid 
eration  the  conduct  of  Horace  Greeley,  a  member  of  the  club,  who 
has  become  a  bondsman  for  Jefferson  Davis,  late  chief  officer  of  the 
Rebel  government.'  Mr.  Jay  continues :  — 

" '  As  I  have  reason  to  believe  that  the  signers,  or  some  of  them,  disapprove 
of  the  conduct  which  they  propose  the  Club  shall  consider,  it  is  clearly  due, 


LETTER  TO  THE  UXION  LEAGUE  CLUB.          545 

both  to  the  Club  and  to  yourself,  that  you  should  have  the  opportunity  of  being 
heard  on  the  subject ;  I  beg,  therefore,  to  ask  on  what  evemng  it  will  be  con 
venient  for  you  that  I  call  the  meeting,'  &c.,  &c. 

"  In  my  prompt  reply  I  requested  the  President  to  give  you  rea 
sonable  time  for  reflection,  but  assured  him  that  /  wanted  none ; 
since  I  should  not  attend  the  meeting,  nor  ask  any  friend  to  do  so, 
and  should  make  no  defence,  nor  offer  aught  in  the  way  of  self- 
vindication.  I  am  sure  my  friends  in  the  Club  will  not  construe 
this  as  implying  disrespect ;  but  it  is  not  my  habit  to  take  part  in 
any  discussions  which  may  arise  among  other  gentlemen  as  to  my 
fitness  to  enjoy  their  society.  That  is  their  affair  altogether,  and 
to  them  I  leave  it. 

"  The  single  point  whereon  I  have  any  occasion  or  wish  to  ad 
dress  you  is  your  virtual  implication  that  there  is  something  novel, 
unexpected,  astounding,  in  my  conduct  in  the  matter  suggested  by 
you  as  the  basis  of  your  action..  I  choose  not  to  rest  under  this 
assumption,  but  to  prove  that  you,  being  persons  of  ordinary  intelli 
gence,  must  know  better.  On  this  point  I  cite  you  to  a  scrutiny 
of  the  record :  — 

"  The  surrender  of  General  Lee  was  made  known  in  this  city 
at  11  P.  M.  of  Sunday,  April  9,  1865,  and  fitly  announced  in  the 
Tribune  of  next  morning,  April  10th.  On  that  very  day  I  wrote, 
and  next  morning  printed  in  these  columns,  a  leader  entitled  '  Mag 
nanimity  in  Triumph,'  wherein  I  said :  — 

" '  We  hear  men  say:  "  Yes,  forgive  the  great  mass  of  those  who  have  been 
misled  into  rebellion,  but  punish  the  leaders  as  they  deserve."  But  who  can 
accurately  draw  the  line  between  leaders  and  followers  in  the  premises  ?  By 
what  test  shall  they  be  discriminated?  ....  Where  is  your  touchstone  of 
leadership  ?  We  know  of  none. 

" '  Nor  can  we  agree  with  those  who  would  punish  the  original  plotters  of 
secession,  yet  spare  their  ultimate  and  scarcely  willing  converts.  On  the  con 
trary,  while  we  would  revive  or  inflame  resentment  against  none  of  them,  we 
feel  far  less  antipathy  to  the  original  upholders  of  "  the  resolutions  of  '98."  — 
to  the  disciples  of  Calhoun  and  McDuffie,  — to  the  nullifiers  of  1832,  and  the 
"  State  Rights  "  men  of  1850,  — than  to  the  John  Bells,  Humphrey  Marshalls, 
and  Alexander  H.  H.  Stuarts,  who  were  schooled  in  the  national  faith,  and 
who,  in  becoming  disunionists  and  Rebels,  trampled  on  the  professions  of  a 
lifetime,  and  spurned  the  logic  wherewith  they  had  so  often  unanswerably 

demonstrated  that  secession  was  treason We  consider  Jefferson  Davis 

this  day  a  less  culpable  traitor  than  John  Bell. 

" '  But  we  cannot  believe  it  wise  or  well  to  take  the  life  of  any  man  who  shall 

ii 


546  RECONSTRUCTION*. 

have  submitted  to  tne  national  authority.  The  execution  of  even  one  such 
would  be  felt  as  a  personal  stigma  by  every  one  who  had  ever  aided  the  Rebel 
cause.  Each  would  say  to  himself,  "I  am  as  culpable  as  he;  we  differ  onlv 
in  that  I  am  deemed  of  comparatively  little  consequence."  A  single  Confed 
erate  led  out  to  execution  would  be  evermore  enshrined  in  a  million  hearts  as 
a  conspicuous  hero  and  martyr.  We  cannot  realize  that  it  would  be  whole 
some  or  safe  —  we  are  sure  it  would  not  be  magnanimous  —  to  give  the  over 
powered  disloyalty  of  the  South  such  a  shrine.  Would  the  throne  of  the 
house  of  Hanover  stand  more  firmly  had  Charles  Edward  been  caught  and 
executed  after  Culloden?  Is  Austrian  domination  in  Hungary  more  stable 
to-day  for  the  hanging  of  Nagy  Sandor  and  his  twelve  compatriots  after  the 
surrender  of  Vilagos  ? 

" '  We  plead  against  passions  certain  to  be  at  this  moment  fierce  and  intol 
erant;  but  on  our  side  are  the  ages  and  the  voice  of  history.  We  plead  for  a 
restoration  of  the  Union,  against  a  policy  which  would  afford  a  momentary 
gratification  at  the  cost  of  years  of  perilous  hate  and  bitterness 

" '  Those  who  invoke  military  execution  for  the  vanquished,  or  even  for 
their  leaders,  we  suspect  will  not  generally  be  found  among  the  few  who  have 
long  been  exposed  to  unjust  odium  as  haters  of  the  South,  because  they  ab 
horred  slavery.  And,  as  to  the  long-oppressed  and  degraded  blacks,  —  so  lately 
the  slaves,  destined  still  to  be  the  neighbors,  and  (we  trust)  at  no  distant  day 
the  fellow-citizens  of  the  Southern  whites.  —  we  are  sure  that  their  voice, 
could  it  be  authentically  uttered,  would  ring  out  decidedly,  sonorously,  on  the 
side  of  clemency,  of  humanity.' 

il  On  the  next  day  I  had  some  more  in  this  spirit,  and  on  the 
13th,  an  elaborate  leader,  entitled  'Peace,  —  Punishment,'  in  the 
course  of  which  I  said :  — 

" '  The  New  York  Times,  doing  injustice  to  its  own  sagacity  in  a  character 
istic  attempt  to  sail  between  wind  and  water,  says :  "  Let  us  hang  Jefferson 
Davis  and  spare  the  rest."  ....  We  do  not  concur  in  the  advice.  Davis  did 
not  devise  nor  instigate  the  Rebellion ;  on  the  contrary,  he  was  one  of  the  latest 
and  most  reluctant  of  the  notables  of  the  Cotton  States  to  renounce  definitively 
the  Union.  His  prominence  is  purely  official  and  representative.:  the  only 
reason  for  hanging  him  is  that  you  therein  condemn  and  stigmatize  more  per 
sons  than  in  hanging  any  one  else.  There  is  not  an  ex-Rebel  in  the  world  — 
no  matter  how  penitent  —  who  will  not  have  unpleasant  sensations  about  the 
neck  on  the  day  when  the  Confederate  President  is  to  be  hung.  And  to  what 
good  end? 

" '  We  insist  that  this  matter  must  not  be  regarded  in  any  narrow  aspect. 
We  are  most  anxious  to  secure  the  assent  of  the  South  to  emancipation;  not 
that  assent  which  the  condemned  gives  to  being  hung  when  he  shakes  hands 
with  his  jailer  and  thanks  him  for  past  acts  of  kindness;  but  that  hearty  as 
sent  which  can  only  be  won  by  magnanimity.  Perhaps  the  Rebels,  as  a  body, 
would  have  given,  even  one  year  ago,  as  large  and  as  hearty  a  vote  for  hanging 
the  writer  of  this  article  as  any  other  man  living;  hence,  it  more  especially 


LETTER  TO  THE  UNION  LEAGUE  CLUB.          547 

seems  to  him  important  to  prove  that  the  civilization  based  on  free  labor  is  of 
a  higher  and  humaner  type  than  that  based  on  slavery.  We  cannot  realize 
that  the  gratification  to  enure  to  our  friends  from  the  hanging  of  any  one  man, 
or  fifty  men,  should  be  allowed  to  outweigh  this  consideration.' 

"  On  the  following  day  I  wrote  again :  — 

" '  We  entreat  the  President  promptly  to  do  and  dare  in  the  cause  of  mag 
nanimity.  The  Southern  mind  is  now  open  to  kindness,  and  may  be  mag 
netically  affected  by  generosity.  Let  assurance  at  once  be  given  that  there 
is  to  be  a  general  amnesty  and  no  general  confiscation.  This  is  none  the 
less  the  dictate  of  wisdom,  because  it  is  also  the  dictate  of  mercy.  What  we 
ask  is,  that  the  President  say  in  effect,  "  Slavery  having,  through  rebellion, 
committed  suicide,  let  the  North  and  the  South  unite  to  bury  the  carcass,  and 
then  clasp  hands  across  the  grave."  ' 

"  The  evening  of  that  day  witnessed  that  most  apalling  calamity, 
the  murder  of  President  Lincoln,  which  seemed  in  an  instant  to 
curdle  all  the  milk  of  human  kindness  in  twenty  millions  of  Ameri 
can  breasts.  At  once  insidious  efforts  were  set  on  foot  to  turn  the 
fury  thus  engendered  against  me,  because  of  my  pertinacious  ad 
vocacy  of  mercy  to  the  vanquished.  Chancing  to  enter  the  Club- 
House  the  next  (Saturday)  evening,  I  received  a  full  broadside  of 
your  scowls,  ere  we  listened  to  a  clerical  harangue  intended  to 
prove  that  Mr.  Lincoln  had  been  providentially  removed  because 
of  his  notorious  leanings  toward  clemency,  in  order  to  make  way 
for  a  successor  who  would  give  the  Rebels  a  full  measure  of  stern 
justice.  I  was  soon  made  to  comprehend  that  I  had  no  sympathiz 
ers  —  or  none  who  dared  seem  such  —  in  your  crowded  assem 
blage.  And  some  maladroit  admirer  having,  a  few  days  afterward, 
made  the  Club  a  present  of  my  portrait,  its  bare  reception  was  re 
sisted  in  a  speech  from  the  chair  by  your  then  President,  —  a  speech 
whose  vigorous  invective  was  justified  solely  by  my  pleadings  for 
lenity  to  the  Rebels. 

"At  once  a  concerted  howl  of  denunciation  and  rage  was  sent  up 
from  every  side  against  me  by  the  little  creatures  whom  G-od,  for 
some  inscrutable  purpose,  permits  to  edit  a  majority  of  our  minor 
journals,  echoed  by  a  yell  of  '  Stop  my  paper ! '  from  thousands  of 
imperfectly  instructed  readers  of  the  Tribune.  One  impudent 
puppy  wrote  me  to  answer  categorically  whether  I  was  or  was  not 
in  favor  of  hanging  Jefferson  Davis,  adding  that  I  must  stop  his 
paper  if  I  were  not !  Scores  volunteered  assurances  that  I  was  de 
fying  public  opinion;  that  most  of  my  readers  were  against  me;  as 


548  RECONSTRUCTION. 

if  I  could  be  induced  to  write  what  they  wished  said  rather  than 
what  they  needed  to  be  told.  I  never  before  realized  so  vividly 
the  baseness  of  the  editorial  vocation,  according  to  the  vulgar  con 
ception  of  it.  The  din  raised  about  my  ears  now  is  nothing  to  that 
I  then  endured  and  despised.  I  am  humiliated  by  the  reflection 
that  it  is  (or  was)  in  the  power  of  such  insects  to  annoy  me,  even 
by  pretending  to  discover  with  surprise  something  that  I  have  for 
years  been  publicly,  emphatically  proclaiming. 

"  I  must  hurry  over  much  that  deserves  a  paragraph,  to  call  your 
attention  distinctly  to  occurrences  in  November  last.  Upon  the 
Republicans  having,  by  desperate  effort,  handsomely  carried  our 
State  against  a  formidable-looking  combination  of  recent  and  ven 
omous  apostates  with  our  natural  adversaries,  a  cry  arose  from  sev 
eral  quarters  that  I  ought  to  be  chosen  United  States  Senator.  At 
once,  kind,  discreet  friends  swarmed  about  me,  whispering,  'Only 
keep  still  about  universal  amnesty,  and  your  election  is  certain.  Just 
be  quiet  a  few  weeks,  and  you  can  say  what  you  please  thereafter. 
You  have  no  occasion  to  speak  now.'  I  slept  on  the  well-meant 
suggestion,  and  deliberately  concluded  that  I  could  not,  in  justice 
to  myself,  defer  to  it.  I  could  not  purchase  office  by  even  passive, 
negative  dissimulation.  No  man  should  be  enabled  to  say  to  me, 
in  truth,  'If  I  had  supposed  you  would  persist  in  your  rejected, 
condemned  amnesty  hobby,  I  would  not  have  given  you  my  vote.' 
So  I  wrote  and  published,,  on  the  27th  of  that  month,  my  manifesto 
entitled  'The  True  Basis  of  Reconstruction/  wherein,  repelling  the 
idea  that  I  proposed  a  dicker  with  the  ex-Rebels,  I  explicitly  said :  — 

" '  I  am  for  universal  amnesty,  so  far  as  immunity  from  fear  of  punishment 
or  confiscation  is  concerned,  even  though  impartial  suffrage  should,  for  the 
present,  be  defeated.  I  did  think  it  desirable  that  Jefferson  Davis  should  be 
arraigned  and  tried  for  treason ;  and  it  still  seems  to  me  that  this  might  prop 
erly  have  been  done  many  months  ago.  But  it  was  not  done  then ;  and  now 
I  believe  it  would  result  in  far  more  evil  than  good.  It  would  rekindle  pas 
sions  that  have  nearly  burned  out  or  been  hushed  to  sleep ;  it  would  fearfully 
convulse  and  agitate  the  South;  it  would  arrest  the  progress  of  reconciliation 
and  kindly  feeling  there ;  it  would  cost  a  large  sum  directly,  and  a  far  larger  in 
directly;  and,  unless  the  jury  were  scandalously  packed,  it  would  result  in  a 
non-agreement  or  no  verdict.  I  can  imagine  no  good  end  to  be  subserved  by 
such  a  trial ;  and,  holding  Davis  neither  better  nor  worse  than  several  others, 
would  have  him  treated  as  they  are.' 

"Is  it  conceivable  that  men  who  can  read,  and  who  were  made 


LETTER  TO  THE  UNION  LEAGUE  CLUB.          549 

aware  of  this  declaration,  —  for  most  of  you  were  present  and 
shouted  approval  of  Mr.  Fessenden's  condemnation  of  my  views  at 
the  Club,  two  or  three  evenings  thereafter,  —  can  now  pretend  that 
my  aiding  to  have  Davis  bailed  is  something  novel  and  unexpected? 

"  Gentlemen>  I  shall  not  attend  your  meeting  this  evening.  I 
have  an  engagement  out  of  town,  and  shall  keep  it.  I  do  not  rec 
ognize  you  as  capable  of  judging,  or  even  fully  apprehending  me. 
You  evidently  regard  me  as  a  weak  sentimentalist,  misled  by  a 
maudlin  philosophy.  I  arraign  you  as  narrow-minded  blockheads, 
who  would  like  to  be  useful  to  a  great  and  good  cause,  but  don't 
know  how.  Your  attempt  to  base  a  great,  enduring  party  on  the 
hate  and  wrath  necessarily  engendered  by  a  bloody  civil  war,  is  as 
though  you  should  plant  a  colony  on  an  iceberg  which  had  some 
how  drifted  into  a  tropical  ocean.  I  tell  you  here,  that,  out  of  a  life 
earnestly  devoted  to  the  good  of  human  kind,  your  children  will 
select  my  going  to  Richmond  and  signing  that  bail-bond  as  the 
wisest  act,  and  will  feel  that  it  did  more  for  freedom  and  humanity 
than  all  of  you  were  competent  to  do,  though  you  had  lived  to  the 
age  of  Methuselah. 

"  I  ask  nothing  of  you,  then,  but  that  you  proceed  to  your  end 
by  a  direct,  frank,  manly  way.  Don't  sidle  off  into  a  mild  resolu 
tion  of  censure,  but  move  the  expulsion  which  you  purposed,  and 
which  I  deserve,  if  I  deserve  any  reproach  whatever.  All  I  care 
for  is,  that  you  make  this  a  square,  stand-up  fight,  and  record  your 
judgment  by  yeas  and  nays.  I  care  not  how  few  vote  with  me, 
nor  how  many  vote  against  me ;  for  I  know  that  the  latter  will  re 
pent  it  in  dust  and  ashes  before  three  years  have  passed.  Under 
stand,  once  for  all,  that  I  dare  you  and  defy  you,  and  that  I  propose 
to  fight  it  out  on  the  line  that  I  have  held  from  the  day  of  Lee's 
surrender.  So  long  as  any  man  was  seeking  to  overthrow  our 
government,  he  was  my  enemy ;  from  the  hour  in  which  he  laid 
down  his  arms,  he  was  my  formerly  erring  countryman.  So  long 
as  any  is  at  heart  opposed  to  the  national  unity,  the  Federal  author 
ity,  or  to  that  assertion  of  the  equal  rights  of  all  men  which  has 
become  practically  identified  with  loyalty  and  nationality,  I  shall 
do  my  best  to  deprive  him  of  power ;  but,  whenever  he  ceases  to 
be  thus,  I  demand  his  restoration  to  all  the  privileges  of  American 
citizenship.  I  give  you  fair  notice,  that  I  shall  urge  the  re-enfran- 
chisemerit  of  those  now  proscribed  for  rebellion  so  soon  as  I  shall 


550  RECONSTRUCTION. 

feel  confident  that  this  course  is  consistent  with  the  freedom  of  the 
blacks  and  the  unity  of  the  Republic,  and  that  I  shall  demand  a  re 
call  of  all  now  in  exile  only  for  participating  in  the  Rebellion,  when 
ever  the  country  shall  have  been  so  thoroughly  pacified  that  its 
safety  will  not  thereby  be  endangered.  And  so,  gentlemen,  hop 
ing  that  you  will  henceforth  comprehend  me  somewhat  better  than 
you  have  done,  I  remain, 

"Yours, 

"HORACE  GREELEY. 
"NEW  YORK,  May  23,  1867." 

The  meeting  of  the  Club  was  held  at  the  time  appointed,  and 
continued  in  session  for  nearly  four  hours.  Two  hundred  mem 
bers  were  present.  The  following  resolutions  were  moved :  — 

"  Whereas,  It  is  declared  in  the  articles  of  association  of  the  Union  League 
Club,  that  'the  primary  object  of  the  association  shall  be  to  discountenance 
and  rebuke,  by  moral  and  social  influences,  all  disloyalty  to  the  Federal  gov 
ernment,'  and  that  '  to  that  end  the  members  will  use  every  proper  means  in 
public  and  private ' ;  and 

"  Whereas,  Jefferson  Davis  has  been  known  by  all  loyal  men  as  the  ruling 
spirit  of  that  band  of  conspirators  who  urged  the  Southern  States  into  rebel 
lion;  as  the  chief  enemy  of  the  Republic,  not  more  from  the  position  which  he 
occupied  in  the  Rebel  Confederacy  than  from  the  vindictive  character  of  his 
official  acts  and  utterances  during  four  years  of  desolating  civil  war;  and  as  one 
who  knew  of,  if  he  did  not  instigate,  a  treatment  of  prisoners  of  war  unwar 
ranted  by  any  possible  circumstances,  unparalleled  in  the  annals  of  civilized 
nations,  and  which,  there  is  abundant  evidence  to  prove,  was  deliberately  de 
vised  for  the  purpose  of  destroying  them ;  and 

"  Whereas.  Horace  Greeley,  a  member  of  this  Club,  has  seen  fit  to  become 
a  bondsman  for  this  man,  whose  efforts  were  for  many  years  directed  to  the 
overthrow  of  our  government;  therefore 

"Resolved.  That  this  Club  would  do  injustice  to  its  past  record,  and  to  the 
high  principle  embodied  in  its  articles  of  association,  should  it  fail  to  express 
regret  that  one  of  its  members  had  consented  to  perform  an  act  of  this  nature. 

"Resolved,  That  this  Club,  while  ready  and  anxious  to  vindicate  the  law  of 
the  land,  cannot  forget  that  there  is  also  a  sense  of  public  decency  to  which  it 
must  defer;  and  that  no  one  of  its  members,  however  eminent  his  services  may 
have  been  in  the  cause  of  liberty  and  loyalty,  can  give  aid  and  comfort  to  Jef 
ferson  Davis  without  offering  a  cruel  insult  to  the  memory  of  the  thousands  of 
our  countrymen  who  perished,  the  victims  of  his  ambition. 

"  Resolved,  That  the  Union  League  Club  disapprove  of  the  act  of  Horace 
Greeley,  in  becoming  the  bondsman  of  Jefferson  Davis. 

"Resolved.  That  these  resolutions  be  published  in  the  newspapers  of  this 
city,  and  that  a  copy  of  them  be  sent  to  Mr.  Greeley." 


RESOLUTIONS    OF    UNION   LEAGUE    CLUB.  551 

These  resolutions  were  not  adopted.     The  following  Avas  pro 
posed,  and  received  a  majority  of  the  votes  of  those  present:  — 

"  Resolved,   That  there  is  nothing  in  the  action  of  Horace  Greeley,  relative 
to  the  bailing  of  Jefferson  Davis,  calling  for  proceedings  in  this  Club." 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

MISCELLANEOUS. 

Horace  Greeley  upon  poetry  and  the  poets— He  objects  to  being  enrolled  among  the  poets 
— His  advice  to  a  country  editor — His  religious  opinions — Upon  marriage  and  divorce 
— His  idea  of  an  American  college — How  he  would  bequeath  an  estate — How  he  be 
came  a  protectionist— Advice  to  ambitious  young  men— To  the  lovers  of  knowledge— 
To  young  lawyers  and  doctors — To  country  merchants — How  far  he  is  a  politician — A 
toast — Reply  to  begging  letters. 

FROM  a  great  heap  of  clippings,  which  have  been  accumulating 
for  many  years,  I  select  a  few  which  throw  light  upon  the  charac 
ter  of  the  man. 

HIS   PECULIAR   OPINIONS   RESPECTING   POETRY. 

One  of  Mr.  G-reeley's  lectures  is  upon  poetry  and  poets,  and  it 
contains  some  opinions  so  curious  and  original  that  I  insert  an 
outline  of  it:  — 

"  All  men,  lie  said,  are  born  poets ;  not  that  he  meant  to  imply  that  every 
cradle  held  an  undeveloped  Shakespeare,  —  far  from  it.  But  it  was  not  the 
less  true  that  young  children  were  poets.  The  child  who  thought  the  stars 
were  gimlet-holes  to  let  the  glory  of  heaven  through,  was  a  poet.  The  un- 
comipted  child  instinctively  perceives  the  poetic  element  in  nature.  Every 
close  observer  must  have  noticed  how  naturally  the  unschooled  child  comes 
to  talk  poetically.  Emerson  says  the  man  who  fii-st  called  another  a  puppy  or 
an  ass  was  a  poet,  disceming  in  those  animals  the  likeness  of  the  individual, 
symbolic  of  his  moral  nature.  Imagination  and  the  poetic  element  are  ever 
most  fertile  in  the  youth,  whether  of  men  or  nations,  and  to  this  might  be 
ascribed  that  wild  extravagance  of  our  popular  stories,  —  of  the  land  being  so 
fertile  that  if  you  planted  a  crow-bar  overnight,  in  the  morning  it  would  be 
sprouting  forth  iron  spikes  and  tenpenny  nails,  or  of  the  pumpkin-vine  that 
grew  so  fast  that  it  outran  the  steed  of  the  astonished  traveller.  The  English 
man  was  so  fenced  in  by  forms  and  rules  and  conventionalities,  that  the  poetic 
element  was  choked  out  of  him.  Hence,  the  English  poets  were  more  appre 
ciated  in  America  than  in  England,  and  there  were  more  Americans  who  read 
Scott  and  Byron,  and,  he  believed,  Shakespeare,  than  there  were  Englishmen. 

"  The  most  vulgar  error  of  a  vulgar  mind,  with  respect  to  poetry,  was  the 
confounding  it  with  verse,  or  with  even  rhyme.  Fond  mothers  would  take 
from  some  secret  drawer  the  cherished  productions  of  her  children,  imagining 
that  because  they  were  in  rhyme  they  were  therefore  poetry,  when  indeed 


HIS   PECULIAR   OPINIONS    RESPECTING   POETRY.  553 

there  was  no  more  poetry  in  them  than  in  an  invitation  to  pass  the  baked  po 
tatoes.  To  the  fresh,  unhackneyed  soul,  rhyme  was  as  repulsive  as  a  fools 
cap  and  bells.  Many  of  the  best  poems  were  not  written  metrically.  Bun- 
van's  Pilgrim's  Progress  was  the  epic  of  Methodism,  but  he  wrote  hideous 
doggerel  when  he  attempted  verse,  as  the  introduction  to  that  work  proved. 
There  can  scarcely  be  a  surer  proof  that  a  youth  has  ceased  to  be  a  poet  than 
when  he  begins  to  rhyme.  Yet  the  poet  of  our  day  must  be  a  vassal  to  the 
onerous  rule.  A  wild  colt  of  a  young  bardling  will  now  and  then  spurn  the 
yoke,  as  Donald  Clark  did,  and  Walt  Whitman  is  doing;  but  the  latter,  though 
he  had  received  the  commendation  of  one  of  our  greatest  poets,  would  never 
receive  sufficient  notice  from  the  critics  to  be  knocked  in  the  head  by  a  vol 
ume  of  the  Edinburgh  Eeview. 

"  The  Book  of  Job  the  lecturer  considered  the  simplest,  grandest,  as  well  as 
oldest  of  pastoral  poems.  David,  the  warrior-king,  had  bequeathed  to  us 
psalms  in  which  were  to  be  found  a  more  fitting  interpretation  of  our  aspira 
tions  and  spiritual  needs  than  in  all  the  religious  poets  of  the  intervening  ages. 
He  reigns  King  of  Psalmody  till  time  shall  be  no  more. 

"  Of  Greek  poetry  Mr.  Greeley  said  he  had  no  right  to  say  much.  The 
Greek  epic  held  substantially  the  place  of  the  modern  novel.  Greek  life, 
as  depicted  by  Homer,  was  rude  and  stern,  and  not  distinguished  for  its  vir 
tues.  About  the  merit  of  Homer's  poems,  it  might  be  imprudent  to  contradict 
the  verdict  of  scholars  who  ranked  them  so  high,  but  he  would  secretly  cher 
ish  his  own  opinion.  Where  was  the  youth,  in  England  or  this  country,  who 
sought  a  translation  of  the  Iliad  for  amusing  reading?  There  were  ten  copies 
of  the  Arabian  Nights  read  for  one  of  Homer.  Still,  we  must  be  grateful  to 
the  epic  for  originating  tragedy,  ^Eschylus  was  the  lineal  child  of  Homer. 

"  Of  the  Romans  the  lecturer  said  that  they  were  never  a  poetic  people. 
They  had  Horace,  an  Epicurean,  philosophizing  in  verse ;  Juvenal,  a  biting 
satirist;  Virgil,  a  weaver  of  legendary  lore,  —  but  the  compositions  of  these 
writers  smell  of  the  land,  while  from  the  Augustan  age  to  Dante  there  was 
nothing  worth  reading.  One  must  be  as  devout  a  Catholic  as  Dante  to  enjoy 
his  Inferno. 

"Proceeding  to  the  consideration  of  English  poetry,  Mr.  Greeley  had  noth 
ing  to  say  in  favor  of  Chaucer  or  Spenser.  Whoever,  he  asked,  sat  down  to 
read  them  otherwise  than  as  a  task  ?  For  his  part,  he  voted  the  Faerie  Queene 
a  bore.  Let  the  gathering  dust  bury  it  out  of  sight. 

"  Shakespeare  he  did  not  love,  because  of  his  Toryism,  but  was  not  insensi 
ble  to  his  wonderful  genius.  His  puns  were,  in  the  lecturer's  opinion,  mostly 
detestable,  and  his  jokes  sorry.  He  was  an  intense  Tory.  No  autocrat  born 
in  the  purple  had  a  more  thorough  contempt  for  the  rabble.  With  Shake-- 
speare  only  the  court  cards  counted.  His  world  was  bounded  by  the  fogs  of 
London  and  the  palace  of  Whitehall.  He  must  have  heard  Raleigh  and  Drake, 
and  other  adventurous  spirits,  who  had  visited  America,  talk  of  the  New 
World,  and  yet  he  never  referred  to  any  portion  of  it,  except  in  that  inaccu 
rate  allusion 4  the  still-vexed  Berrnoothes/  He  was  no  friend  of  the  people. 
He  saw  in  the  million  only  the  counters  wherewith  kings  and  nobles  played 
24 


554  MISCELLANEOUS. 

their  games,  and  lie  did  not  recognize  the  possibility  of  their  becoming  any 
thing  else.  Mr.  Greeley  would  not  say  which  was  the  greater  poet,  but  he 
would  say  that  Milton  was  the  better  man.  There  was  not  a  single  passage  iu 
Shakespeare  which  did  his  manhood  such  honor  as  Milton's  two  sonnets  on 
his  blindness. 

"  Of  the  English  poets,  after  Milton  and  prior  to  the  present  centuiy,  Pope 
alone  was  deserving  of  mention.  Not  that  he  was  a  poet  at  all,  but  a  very 
respectable  philosopher.  Of  Goldsmith,  Thomson,  Gray,  Young,  Cowper,  it 
might  be  said  that  they  were  not  poets,  but  essayists  and  sermonizers.  They 
have  produced  nothing  which  mankind  could  not  well  spare.  Let  them  qui 
etly  sink  into  oblivion. 

"  Mr.  Greeley  gave  Burns  the  praise  of  having  written  true  poetry,  after  the 
ngs  had  been  satiated  with  a  heap  of  mediocre  or  worthless  verse.  In  his 
poems  might  be  found  the  fitting  answer  of  the  dumb  millions  to  the  taunts 
and  slurs  of  Shakespeare. 

"  Of  the  present  poetical  era  Keats  was  the  morning  star.  Byron  held  the 
highest  place  among  modern  poets,  though  the  influence  of  much  that  he  had 
written  was  bad.  As  Goethe  could  not  have  modelled  his  Mephistopheles 
on  Byron's  life,  it  had  been  said  that  Byron  must  have  modelled  his  life  on 
Goethe's  Mephistopheles.  Byron's  life  has  never  yet  been  properly  written, 
and  it  would  indeed  be  a  difficult  task  to  write  a  life  of  him  that  would  suit 
the  Sunday  schools. 

u  Coleridge,  Rogers,  Southey,  Campbell,  —  with  the  exception  of  one  or  two 
little  poems  of  each, — literature,  the  lecturer  thought,  could  spare  them  all. 
Wordsworth  was  a  remarkable  instance  of  tenacity.  He  began  his  poetical 
life  with  a  theory,  and,  though  possessed  of  no  remarkable  powers,  he  per 
sisted  in  his  theory,  and  finally  conquered  his  critics.  The  credit  of  that 
theory,  however,  was  not  so  much  due  to  Wordsworth  as  to  Mrs.  Hemans, 
whose  poetry  Mr.  Greeley  greatly  praised. 

"Of  Hood  he  spoke  in  high  terms.  Tennyson  he  lauded  warmly,  instan 
cing  the  In  Memoriam,  The  Princess,  and  Maud  as  foremost  among  the  gems 
of  English  literature. 

u  Of  Robert  Browning  he  said  the  reading  public  knows  too  little.  Even  in 
England  he  startled  some  of  his  judicious  friends  by  saying  that  he  was  not 
inferior  to  Tennyson.  He  especially  indicated  the  Blot  in  the  Scutcheon, 
Pippa  Passes,  and  Paracelsus  as  among  the  best  poems  of  the  century.  Eliz 
abeth  Barrett  Browning,  the  wife  of  Robert,  received  due  praise  from  Mr. 
Greeley,  especially  for  her  poem  of  Aurora  Leigh." 


HE    OBJECTS   TO   BEING    ENROLLED   AMONG    THE   POETS. HORACE   GREE 
LEY    TO   ROBERT   BONNER. 

"NEW  YORK,  February,  1859. 

" MR.  BONNER:  —  I  perceive  by  your  Ledger  that  you  purpose  to- 
publish  a  volume  (or  perhaps  several  volumes)  made  up  of  poems 


HE  OBJECTS  TO  BEING  ENROLLED  AMONG  THE  POETS.       555 

not  contained  in  Mr.  Dana's  Household  Book  of  Poetry,  and  I 
heartily  wish  success  to  your  enterprise.  There  are  genuine  poems 
of  moderate  length  which  cannot  be  found  in  that  collection,  ex 
cellent  as  it  palpably  is,  and  superior  in  value,  as  I  deem  it,  to  any 
predecessor  or  yet  extant  rival.  There  are,  moreover,  some  gen 
uine  poets  whose  names  do  not  figure  in  Mr.  Dana's  double  index ; 
and  I  thank  you  for  undertaking  to  render  them  justice ;  only  take 
care  not  to  neutralize  or  nullify  your  chivalrous  championship  by 
burying  them  under  a  cartload  of  rhymed  rubbish,  such  as  my 
great  namesake  plausibly  averred  that  neither  gods  nor  men  can 
abide,  and  you  will  have  rendered  literature  a  service  and  done 
justice  to  slighted  merit. 

"  But,  Mr.  Bonner,  be  good  enough  —  you  must  —  to  exclude  me 
from  your  new  poetic  Pantheon.  I  have  no  business  therein,  —  no 
right  and  no  desire  to  be  installed  there.  I  am  no  poet,  never  was 
fin  expression),  and  never  shall  be.  True,  I  wrote  some  verses  in 
my  callow  days,  as  I  presume  most  persons  who  can  make  intelli 
gible  pen-marks  have  done ;  but  I  was  never  a  poet,  even  in  the 
mists  of  deluding  fancy.  All  my  verses,  I  trust,  would  not  fill  one 
of  your  pages ;  they  were  mainly  written  under  the  spur  of  some 
local  or  personal  incitement,  which  long  ago  passed  away.  Though 
in  structure  metrical,  they  were  in  essence  prosaic:  they  were 
read  by  few,  and  those  few  have  kindly  forgotten  them.  Within 
the  last  ten  years  I  have  been  accused  of  all  possible  and  some  im 
possible  offences  against  good  taste,  good  morals,  and  the  common 
weal.  —  I  have  been  branded  aristocrat,  communist,  infidel,  hypo 
crite,  demagogue,  disunionist,  traitor,  corruptionist,  &c.,  &c., — but 
I  cannot  remember  that  any  one  has  flung  in  my  face  my  youthful 
transgressions  in  the  way  of  rhyme.  Do  not,  then,  accord  to  the 
malice  of  my  many  enemies  this  forgotten  means  of  annoyance. 
Let  the  dead  rest !  and  let  me  enjoy  the  reputation  which  I  covet 
and  deserve,  of  knowing  poetry  from  prose,  which  the  ruthless  res 
urrection  of  my  verses  would  subvert,  since  the  undiscerning  ma 
jority  would  blindly  infer  that  /  considered  them  poetry.  Let  me 
up !  "  Thine, 

"HORACE  GTREELEY." 


556  MISCELLANEOUS. 

HORACE  GREELEY'S  ADVICE  TO  A  COUNTRY  EDITOR. 

"  NEW  YORK,  April  3, 1860. 

"  FRIEND  FLETCHER  :  —  I  have  a  line  from  you,  informing  me  that 
you  are  about  to  start  a  paper  at  Sparta,  and  hinting  that  a  line 
from  me  for  its  first  issue  would  be  acceptable.  Allow  me,  then, 
as  one  who  spent  his  most  hopeful  and  observant  years  in  a  coun 
try  printing-office,  and  who  sincerely  believes  that  the  art  of  con 
ducting  country  (or  city)  newspapers  has  not  yet  obtained  its  ulti 
mate  perfection,  to  set  before  you  a  few  hints  on  making  up  an 
interesting  and  popular  gazette  for  a  rural  district  like  yours. 

"  I.  Begin  with  a  clear  conception  that  the  subject  of  deepest 
interest  to  an  average  human  being  is  himself;  next  to  that,  he  is 
most  concerned  about  his  neighbors.  Asia  and  the  Tongo  Islands 
stand  a  long  way  after  these  in  his  regard.  It  does  seem  to  me 
that  most  country  journals  are  oblivious  as  to  these  vital  truths. 
If  you  will,  so  soon  as  may  be,  secure  a  wide-awake,  judicious  cor 
respondent  in  each  village  and  township  of  your  county,  —  some 
young  lawyer,  doctor,  clerk  in  a  store,  or  assistant  in  a  post-office, 
— who  will  promptly  send  you  whatever  of  moment  occurs  in  his 
vicinity,  and  will  make  up  at  least  half  your  journal  of  local  matter 
thus  collected,  nobody  in  the  county  can  long  do  without  it.  Do 
not  let  a  new  church  be  organized,  or  new  members  be  added  to 
one  already  existing,  a  farm  be  sold,  a  new  house  be  raised,  a  mill 
be  set  in  motion,  a  store  be  opened,  nor  anything  of  interest  to  a 
dozen  families  occur,  without  having  the  fact  duly  though  briefly 
chronicled  in  your  columns.  If  a  farmer  cuts  a  big  tree,  or  grows 
a  mammoth  beet,  or  harvests  a  bounteous  yield  of  wheat  or  corn, 
set  forth  the  fact  as  concisely  and  unexceptionably  as  possible.  In 
due  time,  obtain  and  print  a  brief  historical  and  statistical  account 
of  each  township,  — -  who  first  settled  in  it,  who  have  been  its  prom 
inent  citizens,  who  attained  advanced  years  therein,  &c.  Record 
every  birth  as  well  as  every  marriage  and  death.  In  short,  make 
your  paper  a  perfect  mirror  of  everything  done  in  your  county 
that  its  citizens  ought  to  know ;  and,  whenever  a  farm  is  sold,  try 
to  ascertain  what  it  brought  at  previous  sales,  and  how  it  has  been 
managed  meantime.  One  year  of  this,  faithfully  followed  up,  will 
fix  the  value  of  each  farm  in  the  county,  and  render  it  as  easily  de 
termined  as  that  of  a  bushel  of  corn. 

"II.   Take  an  earnest  and  active,  if  not  a  leading,  part  in  the 


HIS   RELIGIOUS   OPINIONS.  557 

advancement  of  home  industry.  Do  your  utmost  to  promote  not 
only  an  annual  county  Fair,  but  town  Fairs  as  well.  Persuade 
each  farmer  and  mechanic  to  send  something  to  such  Fairs,  though 
it  be  a  pair  of  well-made  shoes  from  the  one  or  a  good  ear  of  corn 
from  the  other.  If  any  one  undertakes  a  new  branch  of  industry' 
in  the  county,  especially  if  it  be  a  manufacture,  do  not  wait  to  be 
solicited,  but  hasten  to  give  him  a  helping  hand.  Ask  the  people 
to  buy  his  flour,  or  starch,  or  woollens,  or  boots,  or  whatever  may 
be  his  product,  if  it  be  good,  in  preference  to  any  that  may  be 
brought  into  the  county  to  compete  with  him.  Encourage  and  aid 
him  to  the  best  of  your  ability.  By  persevering  in  this  course  a 
few  years,  you  will  largely  increase  the  population  of  your  county 
and  the  value  of  every  acre  of  its  soil. 

"  III.  Don't  let  the  politicians  and  aspirants  of  the  county  own 
you.  They  may  be  clever  fellows,  as  they  often  are ;  but,  if  you 
keep  your  eyes  open,  you  will  see  something  that  they  seem  blind 
to,  and  must  speak  out  accordingly.  Do  your  best  to  keep  the 
number  of  public  trusts,  the  amount  of  official  emoluments,  and  the 
consequent  rate  of  taxation  other  than  for  common  schools,  as  low 
as  may  be.  Remember  that  —  in  addition  to  the  radical  righteous 
ness  of  the  thing  —  the  tax-payers  take  many  more  papers  than  the 
tax-consumers. 

"  I  would  like  to  say  more,  but  am  busied  excessively.    That  you 
may  deserve  and  achieve  success  is  the  earnest  prayer  of 
"  Yours,  truly, 

"  HORACE  G-REELEY. 

"  Tribune  Office,  New  York." 

HIS   RELIGIOUS   OPINIONS. 

"  NEW  YORK,  Sunday,  February  10, 1855. 
"To  THE  EDITOR  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  AMBASSADOR:  — 

tl  MY  DEAR  SIR  :  —  I  find  in  your  issue  of  this  date  an  extract 
from  the  Rome  Excelsior,  asserting  that  I  am  not  a  Universalist,  to 
which  you  have  appended  an  explicit  denial.  I  could  have  wished 
that  no  necessity  for  such  denial  had  arisen,  and  I  am  very  sure 
that  the  Excelsior  intended  to  state  the  truth.  Yet  its  assertion, 
on  whatever  incidental  expression  or  conversation  it  may  have 
been  based,  is  certainly  erroneous.  I  have  for  thirty  years  ear 
nestly  hoped  and  believed  that  our  Father  in  heaven  will,  in  his 


558  MISCELLANEOUS. 

own  good  time,  bring  the  whole  human  race  into  a  state  of  willing 
and  perfect  reconciliation  to  himself  and  obedience  to  his  laws,  — 
consequently  one  of  complete  and  unending  happiness.  But  as  to 
the  time  when  and  the  means  whereby  this  consummation  is  to  be 
attained,  I  have  no  immovable  conviction ;  though  my  views  have 
generally  accorded  nearly  with  those  held  by  the  Unitarian  Resto- 
rationists.  In  other  words,  I  believe  that  the  moral  character 
formed  in  this  life  will  be  that  in  which  we  shall  awake  in  the  life 
to  come,  and  that  many  die  so  deeply  stained  and  tainted  by  lives 
of  transgression  and  depravity,  that  a  tedious  and  painful  discipline 
must  precede  and  prepare  for  their  admission  to  the  realms  of  eter 
nal  purity  and  bliss.  I  can  only  guess  that  the  Excelsior's  article 
was  based  upon  some  conversation  in  which  this  expose  of  my  be 
lief  was  prominently  set  forth.  And  yet  I  cannot  recollect  that  I 
ever  changed  a  word  with  its  editor  on  the  subject  of  theology. 

"  Your  statement  that  I  am  a  member  of  Mr.  Chapin's  church 
organization,  and  a  communicant  therein,  impels  me  to  say  that, 
though  a  member  of  his  society  from  the  day  of  his  settlement 
among  us,  I  am  not  technically  a  member  of  his  church,  but  of  that 
in  Orchard  Street,  in  which  I  was  a  pew-holder,  until  Dr.  Sawyer's 
removal  from  our  city  to  Clinton,  when  I  attached  myself  to  the 
society  which  is  now  Mr.  Chapin's.  And,  believing  the  ordinance 
of  the  Lord's  Supper,  as  now  celebrated  among  us,  a  fearful  imped 
iment  to  the  progress  and  triumph  of  the  principle  of  total  absti 
nence  from  all  that  can  intoxicate.  I  have  for  some  time  past  felt  it 
my  .duty  to  abstain  from  it,  awaiting  and  hoping  for  the  day  when 
Christians  of  every  name  shall  realize  that  the  blood  of  our  Saviour 
is  not  truly  represented  by  the  compounds  of  vile  and  poisonous 
drugs  commonly  sold  here  as  wine,  nor  yet  by  any  liquid  essen 
tially  alcoholic,  therefore  intoxicating.  If  a  few  more  would  unite 
in  this  protest,  we  should  soon  have  no  other  wine  used  in  the  Eu 
charist  than  that  freshly  and  wholly  expressed  from  grapes,  —  a 
liquid  no  more  intoxicating  or  poisonous  than  new  milk  or  toast- 
water.  And  then  we  shall  cease  to  hear  of  reformed  drunkards 
corrupted  and  hurled  back  into  the  way  of  ruin  by  a  vicious  thirst 
reawakened  at  the  communion-table. 

"  Regretting  both  the  necessity  for  and  the  length  of  this  ex 
planation,  I  remain,  Yours, 

"  HORACE  GREELEY. 

"REV.  J.  M.  AUSTIN." 


HIS    OPINION    RESPECTING    MARRIAGE    AND    DIVORCE.       559 

HIS    OPINION    RESPECTING   MARRIAGE    AND    DIVORCE. 

"  I  am  perfectly  willing  to  see  all  social  experiments  tried  that 
any  earnest,  rational  being  deems  calculated  to  promote  the  well- 
being  of  the  human  family;  but  I  insist  that  this  matter  of  marriage 
and  divorce  has  passed  beyond  the  reasonable  scope  of  experiment. 
The  ground  has  all  been  travelled  over  and  over,  — from  indissolu 
ble  -monogamic  marriage  down  through  polygamy,  concubinage, 
easy  divorce,  to  absolute  free  love,  mankind  have  tried  every  possi 
ble  modification  and  shade  of  relation  between  man  and  woman. 
If  these  multiform,  protracted,  diversified,  infinitely  repeated  ex 
periments  have  not  established  the  superiority  of  the  union  of  one 
man  to  one  woman  for  life,  —  in  short,  marriage,  —  to  all  other 
forms  of  sexual  relation,  then  history  is  a  deluding  mist,  and  man 
has  hitherto  lived  in  vain. 

"  But  you  assert  that  the  people  of  Indiana  are  emphatically  moral 
and  chaste  in  their  domestic  relations.  That  may  be :  at  all  events, 
/  have  not  yet  called  it  in  question.  Indiana  is  yet  a  young  State, 
—  not  so  old  as  either  you  or  I,  —  and  most  of  her  adult  popula 
tion  were  born,  and  I  think  most  of  them  were  reared  and  married, 
in  States  which  teach  and  maintain  the  indissolubility  of  marriage. 
That  population  is  yet  sparse,  the  greater  part  of  it  in  moderate 
circumstances,  engaged  in  rural  industry,  and  but  slightly  exposed 
to  the  temptations  born  of  crowds,  luxury,  and  idleness.  In  such 
circumstances,  continence  would  probably  be  general,  even  were 
marriage  unknown.  But  let  time  and  change  do  their  work,  and 
then  see !  Given  the  population  of  Italy  in  the  days  of  the  Caesars, 
with  easy  divorce,  and  I  believe  the  result  would  be  like  that  ex 
perienced  by  the  Roman  Republic,  which,  under  the  sway  of  easy 
divorce,  rotted  away  and  perished,  blasted  by  the  mildew  of  un 
chaste  mothers  and  dissolute  homes. 

"  If  experiments  are  to  be  tried  in  the  direction  you  favor,  I  in 
sist  that  they  shall  be  tried  fairly,  —  not  under  cover  of  false  prom 
ises  and  baseless  pretences.  Let  those  who  will  take  each  other 
on  trial;  but  let  such  unions  have  a  distinct  name,  as  in  Paris  or 
Hayti,  and  let  us  know  just  who  are  married  (old  style),  and  who 
have  formed  unions  to  be  maintained  or  terminated  as  circum 
stances  shall  dictate.  Those  who  choose  the  latter  will  of  course 
consummate  it  without  benefit  of  clergy ;  but  I  do  not  see  how 
they  need  even  so  much  ceremony  as  that  of  jumping  the  broom- 


560  MISCELLANEOUS. 

stick.  '  I  'II  love  you  so  long  as  I  'in  able,  and  swear  for  no  longer 
than  this,'  —  what  need  is  there  of  any  solemnity  to  hallow  such  a 
union  ?  What  libertine  would  hesitate  to  promise  that  much,  even 
if  fully  resolved  to  decamp  next  morning  ?  If  man  and  woman  are 
to  be  true  to  each  other  only  so  long  as  they  shall  each  find  con 
stancy  the  dictate  of  their  several  inclinations,  there  can  be  no  such 
crime  as  adultery,  and  mankind  have  too  long  been  defrauded  of 
innocent  enjoyment  by  priestly  anathemas  and  ghostly  maledic 
tions.  Let  us  each  do  what  for  the  moment  shall  give  us  pleasur 
able  sensations,  and  let  all  such  fantasies  as  Grod,  duty,  conscience, 
retribution,  eternity,  be  banished  to  the  moles  and  the  bats,  with 
other  forgotten  rubbish  of  bygone  ages  of  darkness  and  unreal 
terrors. 

"But  if — as  I  firmly  believe  —  marriage  is  a  matter  which  con 
cerns,  not  only  the  men  and  women  who  contract  it,  but  the  state, 
the  community,  mankind,  — if  its  object  be  not  merely  the  mutual 
gratification  and  advantage  of  the  husband  and  wife,  but  the  due 
sustenance,  nurture,  and  education  of  their  children,  —  if,  in  other 
words,  those  who  voluntarily  incur  the  obligations  of  parentage  can 
only  discharge  those  obligations  personally  and  conjointly,  and  to 
that  end  are  bound  to  live  together  in  love  at  least  until  their 
youngest  child  shall  have  attained  perfect  physical  and  intellectual 
maturity,  — then  I  deny  that  a  marriage  can  be  dissolved  save  by 
death  or  that  crime  which  alone  renders  its  continuance  impossi 
ble.  I  look  beyond  the  special  case  to  the  general  law,  and  to  the 
reason  which  underlies  that  law ;  and  I  say,  no  couple  can  inno 
cently  take  upon  themselves  the  obligations  of  marriage  until  they 
KNOW  that  they  are  one  in  spirit,  and  so  must  remain  forever.  If 
they  rashly  lay  profane  hands  on  the  ark,  theirs  alone  is  the  blame; 
be  theirs  alone  the  penalty !  They  have  no  right  to  cast  it  on  that 
public  which  admonished  and  entreated  them  to  forbear,  but  ad 
monished  and  entreated  in  vain." 

HIS   IDEA    OF   AN   AMERICAN   COLLEGE. 

An  address  at  the  laying  of  the  corner-stone  of  the  People's  Col 
lege,  at  Havana,  in  the  State  of  New  York,  September  1,  1858. 

"FELLOW-CITIZENS  AND  FRIENDS:  —  William  Hazlitt,  an  eminent 
scholar  and  critic,  writing  some  thirty  or  forty  years  since  of  the 
ignorance  of  the  learned,  says :  — 


HIS   IDEA   OF   AN   AMERICAN   COLLEGE.  561 

" '  Learning  is  the  knowledge  of  that  which  none  but  the  learned  know.  He 
is  the  most  learned  man  who  knows  the  most  of  what  is  furthest  removed  from 
common  life  and  actual  observation,  that  is  of  the  least  practical  utility,  and 
least  liable  to  be  brought  to  the  test  of  experience,  and  that,  having  been  handed 
down  through  the  greatest  number  of  intermediate  stages,  is  the  most  full  of 
uncertainties,  difficulties,  contradictions.  It  is  seeing  with  the  eyes  of  others, 
hearing  with  their  ears,  and  pinning  our  faith  on  their  understandings.  The 
learned  man  prides  himself  on  the  knowledge  of  names  and  dates,  not  of  men 
and  things.  He  does  not  know  whether  his  oldest  acquaintance  is  a  knave  or 
a  fool,  but  he  can  pronounce  a  pompous  lecture  on  all  the  principal  characters 
in  history.  He  knows  as  much  of  what  he  talks  about  as  a  blind  man  does 
of  colors.' 

"  Such  is  the  learning  which  the  People's  College  is  intended  to 
supplant;  such  the  ignorance  which  it  is  designed  to  dispel;  such 
the  reproach  which  it  is  intended  to  remove. 

"  As  one  of  the  early  and  earnest,  if  not  very  efficient  advocates 
of  this  College,  allow  me  to  state  briefly  the  ideas  and  purposes 
which  animated  the  pioneers  in  the  enterprise  of  which  we  to-day 
celebrate  the  preliminary  triumph. 

"  I.  The  germinal  idea  of  the  People's  College  affirms  the  neces 
sity  of  a  thorough  and  appropriate  education  for  the  practical  man 
in  whatever  department  of  business  or  industry.  The  farmer,  me 
chanic,  manufacturer,  engineer,  miner,  &c.,  &c.,  needs  to  understand 
thoroughly  the  materials  he  employs  or  moulds,  and  the  laws  which 
govern  their  various  states  and  transmutations.  In  other  words,  a 
thorough  mastery  of  geology,  chemistry,  and  the  related  sciences, 
with  their  applications,  is  to-day  the  essential  basis  of  fitness  to  lead 
or  direct  in  any  department  of  industry.  This  knowledge  we  need 
seminaries  to  impart,  —  seminaries  which  shall  be  devoted  mainly, 
or  at  least  emphatically,  to  Natural  Science,  and  which  shall  not  re 
quire  of  their  pupils  the  devotion  of  their  time  and  mental  energies 
to  the  study  of  the  dead  languages.  I  am  not  here  to  denounce  or 
disparage  a  classical  course  of  study.  I  trust  and  have  no  doubt 
that  facilities  for  pursuing  such  a  course  will  be  afforded  and  im 
proved  in  this  institution.  I  only  protest  against  the  requirement 
of,  application  to,  and  proficiency  in,  the  dead  languages  of  all  col 
lege  students,  regardless  of  the  length  of  time  they  may  be  able  to 
devote  to  study,  and  of  the  course  of  life  they  meditate.  A  clas 
sical  education  may  be  very  appropriate,  even  indispensable,  for  the 
embryo  lawyer  or  clergyman,  yet  not  at  all  suited  to  the  wants  of 
24*  jj 


562  MISCELLANEOUS. 

the  prospective  farmer,  artisan,  or  engineer.  We  want  a  seminary 
which  recognizes  the  varying  intellectual  needs  of  all  our  aspiring 
youth,  and  suitably  provides  for  them.  We  want  a  seminary 
which  provides  as  fitly  and  thoroughly  for  the  education  of  the 
1  captains  of  industry,'  as  Yale  or  .Harvard  does  for  those  who  are 
dedicated  to  either  of  the  professions. 

"II.  We  seek  and  meditate  a  perfect  combination  of  study  with 
labor.  Of  course,  this  is  an  enterprise  of  great  difficulty,  destined 
to  encounter  the  most  formidable  obstacles  from  false  pride,  natural 
indolence,  fashion,  tradition,  and  exposure  to  ridicule.  It  is  deplor 
ably  true  that  a  large  portion,  if  not  even  a  majority,  of  our  youth 
seeking  a  liberal  education  addict  themselves  to  study  in  order  that 
they  may  escape  a  life  of  manual  labor,  and  would  prefer  not  to 
study  if  they  knew  how  else  to  make  a  Living  without  downright 
muscular  exertion,  but  they  do  not;  so  they  submit  to  be  ground 
through  academy  and  college,  not  that  they  love  study  or  its  intel 
lectual  fruits,  but  that  they  may  obtain  a  livelihood  with  the  least 
possible  sweat  and  toil.  Of  course,  these  will  not  be  attracted  by 
our  programme,  and  it  is  probably  well  for  us  that  they  are  not. 
But  I  think  there  is  a  class  —  small,  perhaps,  but  increasing  —  who 
would  fain  study,  not  in  order  to  escape  their  share  of  manual  labor, 
but  to  qualify  them  to  perform  their  part  in  it  more  efficiently  and 
usefully ;  not  in  order  to  shun  work,  but  to  qualify  them  to  work 
to  better  purpose.  They  have  no  mind  to  be  made  drudges,  but 
they  have  faith  in  the  ultimate  elevation  of  mankind  above  the  ne 
cessity  of  life-long,  unintermitted  drudgery,  and  they  aspire  to  do 
.something  toward  securing  or  hastening  that  consummation.  They 
know  that  manual  labor  can  only  be  dignified  or  elevated  by  ren 
dering  it  more  intelligent  and  efficient,  and  that  this  cannot  be  so 
long  as  the  educated  and  the  intellectual  shun  such  labor  as  fit  only 
for  boors. 

"  Our  idea  regards  physical  exertion  as  essential  to  human  devel 
opment,  and  productive  industry  as  the  natural,  proper,  God-given 
sphere  of  such  exertion.  Exercise,  recreation,  play,  are  well  enough 
in  their  time  and  place ;  but  work  is  the  divine  provision  for  devel 
oping  and  strengthening  the  physical  frame.  Dyspepsia,  debility, 
and  a  hundred  forms  of  wasting  disease  are  the  results  of  ignorance 
or  defiance  of  this  truth.  The  stagnant  marsh  and  the  free,  pure 
running  stream  aptly  exemplify  the  disparity  in  health  and  vigor 


HIS    IDEA    OF    AN    AMERICAN    COLLEGE.  563 

between  the  worker  and  the  idler.  Intellectual  labor,  rightly  di 
rected,  is  noble,  —  far  be  it  from  me  to  disparage  it,  —  but  it  does 
not  renovate  and  keep  healthful  the  physical  man.  To  this  end,  we 
insist,  persistent  muscular  exertion  is  necessary,  and,  as  it  is  always 
well  that  exercise  should  have  »  purpose  other  than  exercise,  every 
human  being  not  paralytic  or  bed-ridden  should  bear  a  part  in 
manual  labor,  and  the  young  and  immature  most  of  all.  The  brain- 
sweat  of  the  student,  the  tax  levied  by  study  on  the  circulation 
and  the  vision,  are  best  counteracted  by  a  daily  devotion  of  a  few 
hours  to  manual  labor. 

"  Moreover,  there  are  thousands  of  intellectual,  aspiring  youth 
who  are  engaged  in  a  stern  wrestle  with  poverty,  —  who  have  no 
relatives  who  can  essentially  aid  them,  and  only  a  few  dollars  and 
their  own  muscles  between  them  and  the  almshouse.  These  would 
gladly  qualify  themselves  for  the  highest  usefulness ;  but  how  shall 
they  ?  If  they  must  give  six  months  of  each  year  to  teaching,  or 
some  other  vocation,  in  order  to  provide  means  for  pursuing  their 
studies  through  the  residue  of  the  year,  their  progress  must  be  slow 
indeed.  But  bring  the  study  and  the  work  together, — let  three 
or  four  hours  of  labor  break  up  the  monotony  of  the  day's  lessons, 
—  and  they  may  pursue  their  studies  from  New  Year's  to  Christmas, 
and  from  their  sixteenth  year  to  their  twenty-first  respectively, 
should  they  see  fit,  without  serious  or  damaging  interruption.  I 
know  that  great  difficulties  are  to  be  encountered,  great  obstacles 
surmounted,  in  the  outset;  but  I  feel  confident  that  each  student 
of  sixteen  years  or  over,  who  gives  twenty  hours  per  week  to  man 
ual  labor  at  this  College,  may  earn  at  least  one  dollar  per  week  from 
the  outset,  and  ultimately  two  dollars,  and  in  some  cases  three  dol 
lars  per  week  by  such  labor.  How  welcome  an  accession  to  his 
scanty  means  many  a  needy  student  would  find  this  sum  I  need 
not  insist  on.  And  when  it  is  considered  that  this  modicum  of  la 
bor  would  at  the  same  time  conduce  to  his  health,  vigor,  and  phys 
ical  development,  and  tend  to  qualify  him  for  usefulness  and  inde 
pendence  in  after  life,  I  feel  that  the  importance  and  the  beneficence 
of  the  requirement  of  manual  labor  embodied  in  the  constitution  of 
this  College  cannot  be  overestimated. 

"  III.  Another  idea  cherished  by  the  friends  of  this  enterprise 
was  that  of  justice  to  woman.  They  did  not  attempt  to  indicate 
nor  to  define  woman's  sphere,  —  to  decide  that  she  ought  or  ought 


564  MISCELLANEOUS. 

not  to  vote  or  sit  on  juries,  —  to  prescribe  how  she  should  dress, 
nor  what  should  be  the  limits  of  her  field  of  life-long  exertion. 
They  did  not  assume  that  her  education  should  be  identical  with 
that  of  the  stronger  sex,  nor  to  indicate  wherein  it  should  be  pecu 
liar  ;  but  they  did  intend  that  the  People's  College  should  afford 
equal  facilities  and  opportunities  to  young  women  as  to  young 
men,  and  should  proffer  them  as  freely  to  the  former  as  to  the  lat 
ter,  allowing  each  student,  under  the  guidance  of  his  or  her  parents, 
with  the  counsel  of  the  faculty,  to  decide  for  him  or  herself  what 
studies  to  pursue  and  what  emphasis  should  be  given  to  each. 
They  believed  that  woman,  like  man,  might  be  trusted  to  deter 
mine  for  herself  what  studies  were  adapted  to  her  needs,  and  what 
acquirements  would  most  conduce  to  her  own  preparation  for  and 
efficiency  in  the  duties  of  active  life.  They  held  the  education  of 
the  two  sexes  together  to  be  advantageous  if  not  indispensable  to 
both,  imparting  strength,  earnestness,  and  dignity  to  woman,  and 
grace,  sweetness,  and  purity  to  man.  They  believed  that  such 
commingling  in  the  halls  of  learning  would  animate  the  efforts  and 
accelerate  the  progress  of  the  youth  of  either  sex,  through  the  influ 
ence  of  the  natural  and  laudable  aspiration  of  each  to  achieve  and 
enjoy  the  good  opinion  of  the  other.  They  believed  that  the  mere 
aspect  of  a  college  whereto  both  sexes  are  welcomed  as  students 
would  present  a  strong  contrast  to  the  naked,  slovenly,  neglected, 
ungraceful,  cheerless  appearance  of  the  old  school  colleges,  which 
would  furnish  of  itself  a  strong  argument  in  favor  of  the  more  gen 
erous  plan.  I  trust  this  idea  of  the  pioneers  will  not  be  ignored 
by  their  successors. 

"Friends,  a  noble  beginning  has  here  been  made ;  may  the  enter 
prise  be  vigorously  prosecuted  to  completion.  To  this  end,  it  is 
necessary  that  means  should  be  provided,  —  that  the  wealthy  of 
their  abundance  and  the  poorer  according  to  their  ability  should 
contribute  to  the  founding  and  endowment  of  the  noble  institution 
whose  corner-stone  we  have  just  laid.  Let  each  contribute  who 
can,  and  a  seminary  shall  here  be  established  which  shall  prove  a 
blessing,  and  the  parent  of  kindred  blessings,  to  your  children  and 
your  children's  children  throughout  future  time." 


HOW  HE   WOULD   BEQUEATH   AN   ESTATE.  565 

WHAT    HE    WOULD    DO    IF   HE    HAD   A    LARGE    ESTATE   TO    BEQUEATH. 

"  To  THE  EDITOR  OF  THE  NEW  YORK  TRIBUNE  :  — 

"  SIR  :  —  An  unmarried  man,  who  has  passed  the  meridian  of  life,  who  has 
gained  his  plum,  and  made  provision  for  the  attendants  who  have  served  him 
diligently  through  the  summer  of  life,  feels  desirous  of  making  the  best  use  of 
the  substance  he  may  leave,  and  would  ask  as  a  special  favor  of  the  editors  (in 
whom  he  has  the  utmost  confidence)  what  disposition  it  is  best  to  make  of  it. 
Please  reply  through  the  medium  of  your  journal,  and  oblige, 

"A  CONSTANT  READER." 

"REPLY. 

"I.  If  we  had  ' a  plum '  to  dispose  of,  and  were  as  unfettered  in 
its  disposition  as  our  '  reader '  would  seem  to  be,  we  would,  first  of 
all  things,  establish  in  this  city  a  Universal  Free  Intelligence  Office, 
—  that  is,  an  office  to  which  any  person  or  company  in  any  part  of 
the  world  might  freely  apply  for  laborers  in  any  capacity,  and  to 
which  persons  of  each  sex  and  of  whatever  capacity  or  condition 
might  freely  apply  at  all  times  for  work.  At  this  office  let  the 
names  of  all  who  want  employment  be  duly  inscribed,  stating, 
1.  What  they  know  how  to  do  well ;  2.  What  they  would  prefer 
to  do ;  3.  What  wages  will  satisfy  them ;  and  4.  Where  they  may 
be  seen  or  addressed  when  not  at  the  office,  and  at  what  hour  of 
each  day  they  will  call  at  said  office  until  engaged.  Here  let  also 
the  names  of  all  who  want  teachers,  clerks,  copyists,  farmers,  gar 
deners,  laborers,  cooks,  nurses,  seamstresses,  &c.,  be  inscribed  in 
another  set  of  books,  setting  forth  their  respective  locations,  re 
quirements,  and  what  they  are  willing  to  pay,  and  to  whom  refer 
ence  may  be  made  in  the  city  with  regard  to  their  character  and 
responsibility.  Such  an  office,  wherein  all  who  want  work  and  all 
who  want  workers  should  be  brought  freely  into  communication 
with  each  other,  would,  at  a  cost  of  less  than  $  10,000  per  annum,- 
save  the  poor  the  $  100,000  or  over  that  they  now  pay  to  Intelli 
gence  Offices,  and  serve  them  ten  times  as  well  as  these  do  or  can. 
It  would  add  largely  to  the  industrial  efficiency  of  our  country,  by 
reducing  the  sum  of  involuntary  idleness  to  a  minimum,  and  send 
back  to  the  cornfields  and  meadows  which  need  them,  thousands 
of  youth  who  now  idly,  wastefully,  perilously  haunt  our  pave 
ments,  hoping  to  be  employed  as  clerks,  copyists,  teachers,  &c., 
when  there  is  no  demand  for  their  services  in  any  such  capacity. 

"  II.   If  our  '  reader '  does  not  incline  to  the  good  work  above  in* 


50  G  MISCELLANEOUS. 

dicated,  or  is  able  to  do  that  and  something  more,  or  his  kind  pur 
pose  is  emulated  by  some  one  else  who  has  wealth  at  command, 
we  would  earnestly  urge  the  importance  of  establishing  a  Free 
University,  —  not  one  wherein  aspiring  youth  may  be  educated  at 
others'  cost,  but  one  wherein  youth  of  either  sex  may  earn  their 
own  tuition  and  subsistence  during  the  years,  few  or  many,  which 
they  may  see  fit  to  devote  to  study.  This  country  should  have  at 
least  one  hundred  seminaries  to  which  any  youth  eager  to  learn 
and  willing  to  work  might  repair  at  any  time  after  his  or  her  fif 
teenth  year,  and  there,  alternating  from  work  to  study  daily,  being 
credited  for  his  work,  and  charged  for  his  room,  tuition,  and  board, 
remain  two,  four,  or  six  years,  and  find  a  small  balance  in  his  favor 
on  making  up  his  account  when  preparing  to  leave.  One  person, 
being  specially  energetic  and  skilful,  might  pay  his  way  by  three 
hours'  work  per  day ;  others  might  have  to  work  five  to  insure  the 
same  result;  but  so  long  as  food,  clothing,  shelter,  &c.,  are  the 
product  of  human  muscles,  it  ought  to  be  easy  for  those  who  desire 
to  study,  yet  have  no  other  means  than  their  own  God-given  fac 
ulties,  to  acquire  a  thorough  education,  paying  for  it  as  they  re 
ceive  it.  We  have  in  our  State  an  embryo  of  such  a  seminary  in 
'The  People's  College'  (for  further  information,  address  Amos 
Brown,  Havana,  N.  Y.),  and  there  are  some  kindred  beginnings  in 
Illinois,  Kansas,  and  other  quarters.  Let  our  '  Constant  Reader ' 
make  himself  familiar  with  these,  and,  if  none  of  them  proves  satis 
factory,  let  him,  or  some  one  like  him,  establish  a  better.  What 
ever  faults  may  be  developed  in  this  or  that  plan,  or  its  execution, 
the  idea  of  self-supporting  education  is  a  noble  one,  and  will  yet  be 
realized.  And,  if  there  only  were  fifty  colleges  in  which  youth 
who  aspire  to  knowledge,  but  are  unblessed  (or  uncursed)  with 
.property,  could  pursue  a  thorough  course  of  study,  and  pay  their 
way  throughout  by  their  own  labor,  we  believe  they  would  all  be 
filled  with  students  within  a  year.  '  It  is  the  first  step  that  costs ' ; 
and  when  one  such  institution  shall  have  been  established,  and 
shall  have  proved  that  study  and  labor  are  by  no  means  incompat 
ible,  the  other  forty -nine  will  easily  and  rapidly  follow.  Will  not 
our  '  Constant  Reader,'  and  other  constant  or  occasional  readers,  be 
moved  to  do  something  toward  this  great  and  necessary  work  of 
rendering  the  highest  and  most  thorough  education  accessible  to 
.the  poorest  youth,  so  that  they  be  willing  to  work  for  it ?  " 


HOW    HE    BECAME    A    PROTECTIONIST.  567 

HOW    HE   BECAME    A    "  PROTECTIONIST." 

From  an  address  on  taking  the  chair  as  President  of  the  "  Amer 
ican  Institute,"  in  1866:  — 

"  It  is  now  more  than  thirty-four  years  since  I,  a  minor  and  a 
stranger  in  this  city,  had  my  attention  drawn  to  a  notice  in  the 
journals  that  the  friends  of  protection  to  American  industry  were 
to  meet  that  day  in  convention  at  the  rooms  of  the  American  In 
stitute,  —  said  Institute  being  then  much  younger  than,  though  not 
so  obscure  as,  I  was.  I  had  no  work,  and  could  find  none :  so,  feel 
ing  a  deep  interest  in  and  devotion  to  the  cause  which  that  con 
vention  was  designed  to  promote,  I  attended  its  sittings ;  and  this 
was  my  first  introduction  to  the  American  Institute ;  which  I  have 
ever  since  esteemed  and  honored,  though  the  cares  and  labors  of  a 
busy,  anxious  life  have  not  allowed  me  hitherto  to  devote  to  its 
meetings  the  time  that  I  would  gladly  have  given  them. 

"  I  recur  to  the  fact  that  I  was  drawn  to  the  American  Institute 
by  my  interest  in  and  sympathy  with  the  cause  of  protection  to 
home  industry.  From  early  boyhood  I  had  sat  at  the  feet  of  Hez- 
ekiah  Niles  and  Henry  Clay  and  Walter  Forward  and  Eollin  0. 
Mallory,  and  other  champions  of  this  doctrine,  and  I  had  attained 
from  a  perusal  of  theirs  and  kindred  writings  and  speeches  a  most 
undoubting  conviction  that  the  policy  they  commended  was  emi 
nently  calculated  to  impel  our  country  swiftly  and  surely  onward 
through  activity  and  prosperity  to  greatness  and  assured  well- 
being.  I  had  studied  the  question  dispassionately,  —  for  the  jour 
nals  accessible  to  my  boyhood  were  mainly  those  of  Boston,  then 
almost  if  not  quite  unanimously  hostile  to  protection ;  but  the  argu 
ments  they  combated  seemed  to  me  far  stronger  than  those  they 
advanced,  and  I  early  became  an  earnest  and  ardent  disciple  of  the 
school  of  Niles  and  Clay.  I  could  not  doubt  that  the  policy  they 
commended  was  that  best  calculated  to  lead  a  country  of  vast  and 
undeveloped  resources,  like  ours,  up  from  rude  poverty  and  depen 
dence,  to  skilled  efficiency,  wealth,  and  power.  And  the  convic 
tions  thus  formed  have  been  matured  and  strengthened  by  the 
observations  and  experience  of  subsequent  years.  Thus  was  I 
attracted  to  the  rooms  and  the  counsels  of  the  American  Institute." 


568  MISCELLANEOUS. 

HIS   ADVICE    TO   AMBITIOUS   YOUNG   MEN. 

"'I  want  to  go  into  business,'  is  the  aspiration  of  our  young 
men ;  '  can't  you  find  me  a  place  in  the  city  ? '  their  constant  in 
quiry.  *  Friend,'  we  answer  to  many,  l  the  best  business  you  can 
go  into  you  will  find  on  your  father's  farm,  or  in  his  workshop.  If 
you  have  no  family  or  friends  to  aid  you,  and  no  prospect  opened 
to  you  there,  turn  your  face  to  the  Great  West,  and  there  build  up 
a  home  and  fortune.  But  dream  not  of  getting  suddenly  rich  by 
speculation,  rapidly  by  trade,  or  anyhow  by  a  profession :  all  these 
avenues  are  choked  by  eager,  struggling  aspirants,  and  ten  must  be 
trodden  down  in  the  press,  where  one  can  vault  upon  his  neighbor's 
shoulders  to  honor  or  wealth  Above  all,  be  neither  afraid  nor 
ashamed  of  honest  industry ;  and  if  you  catch  yourself  fancying 
anything  more  respectable  than  this,  be  ashamed  of  it  to  the  last 
day  of  your  life.  Or,  if  you  find  yourself  shaking  more  cordially 
the  hand  of  your  cousin  the  congressman  than  of  your  uncle  the 
blacksmith,  as  such,  write  yourself  down  an  enemy  to  the  princi 
ples  of  our  institutions,  and  a  traitor  to  the  dignity  of  humanity.' " 

TO    THE    LOVERS    OF   KNOWLEDGE. 

"  Avoid  the  pernicious  error  that  you  must  have  a  profession,  — 
must  be  a  clergyman,  lawyer,  doctor,  or  something  of  the  sort,  — 
in  order  to  be  influential,  useful,  respected ;  or,  to  state  the  case  in 
its  best  aspect,  that  you  may  lead  an  intellectual  life.  Nothing  of 
the  kind  is  necessary,  —  very  far  from  it.  If  your  tendencies  are 
intellectual,  —  if  you  love  knowledge,  wisdom,  virtue,  for  them 
selves,  you  will  grow  in  them,  whether  you  earn  your  bread  by  a 
profession,  a  trade,  or  by  tilling  the  ground.  Nay,  it  may  be 
doubted  whether  the  farmer  or  mechanic,  who  devotes  his  leisure 
hours  to  intellectual  pursuits  from  a  pure  love  of  them,  has  not 
some  advantages  therein  over  the  professional  man.  He  comes  to 
his  book  at  evening  with  his  head  clear  and  his  mental  appetite 
sharpened  by  the  manual  labors,  taxing  lightly  the  spirit  or  brain ; 
while  the  lawyer,  who  has  been  running  over  dry  books  for  prece 
dents,  the  doctor,  who  has  been  racking  his  wits  for  a  remedy 
adapted  to  some  new  modification  of  disease,  or  the  divine,  who, 
immured  in  his  closet,  has  been  busy  preparing  his  next  sermon, 
may  well  approach  the  evening  volume  with  faculties  jaded  and 
palled." 


TO    COUNTRY  MERCHANTS.  569 

TO   YOUNG   LAWYERS  AND   DOCTORS. 

"  Qualify  yourselves  at  college  to  enlighten  the  farmers  and  mechanics 
among  whom  you  settle  in  the  scientific  principles  and  facts  which  un 
derlie  their  several  vocations.  The  great  truths  of  geology,  chemis 
try,  &c.,  &c.,  ought  to  be  well  known  to  you  when  your  education 
is  completed,  and  these,  if  you  have  the  ability  to  impart  and  eluci 
date  them,  will  make  you  honorably  known  to  the  inhabitants  of 
any  county  wherein  you  may  pitch  your  tent,  and  will  thus  insure 
you  a  subsistence  from  the  start,  and  ultimately  professional  em 
ployment  and  competence.  Qualify  yourself  to  lecture  accurately 
and  fluently  on  the  more  practical  and  important  principles  of  Nat 
ural  Science,  and  you  will  soon  find  opportunities,  auditors,  cus 
tomers,  friends.  Show  the  farmer  how  to  fertilize  his  fields  more 
cheaply  and  effectively  than  he  has  hitherto  done,  —  teach  the 
builder  the  principles  and  more  expedient  methods  of  heating  and 
ventilation,  —  tell  the  mason  how  to  correct,  by  understanding  and 
obeying  nature's  laws,  the  defect  which  makes  a  chimney  smoke 
at  the  wrong  end,  —  and  you  need  never  stand  idle,  nor  long  await 
remunerating  employment." 

TO   COUNTRY  MERCHANTS. 

"  The  merchant's  virtue  should  be  not  merely  negative  and  ob 
structive,  —  it  should  be  actively  beneficent.  He  should  use  oppor 
tunities  afforded  by  his  vocation  to  foster  agricultural  and  mechan 
ical  improvement,  to  advance  the  cause  of  education,  and  diffuse 
the  principles,  not  only  of  virtue,  but  of  refinement  and  correct  taste. 
He  should  be  continually  on  the  watch  for  whatever  seems  calcu 
lated  to  instruct,  ennoble,  refine,  dignify,  and  benefit  the  community 
in  which  he  lives.  He  should  be  an  early  and  generous  patron  of 
useful  inventions  and  discoveries,  so  far  as  his  position  and  means 
will  permit.  He  should  be  a  regular  purchaser  of  new  and  rare 
books,  such  as  the  majority  will  not  buy,  yet  ought  to  read,  with 
a  view  to  the  widest  dissemination  of  the  truths  they  unfold.  If 
located  in  the  country,  he  should  never  visit  the  city  to  replenish 
his  stock,  without  endeavoring  to  bring  back  something  that  will 
afford  valuable  suggestions  to  his  customers  and  neighbors.  If 
these  are  in  good  part  farmers,  and  no  store  in  the  vicinity  is  de 
voted  especially  to  this  department,  he  should  be  careful  to  keep  a 


570  MISCELLANEOUS. 

supply  of  the  best  ploughs  and  other  implements  of  farming,  as 
well  as  the  choicest  seeds,  cuttings,  &c.,  and  those  fertilizing  sub 
stances  best  adapted  to  the  soil  of  his  township,  or  most  advan 
tageously  transported  thither;  and  those  he  should  be  very  willing 
to  sell  at  cost,  especially  to  the  poor  or  the  penurious,  in  order  to 
encourage  their  general  acceptance  and  use.  Though  he  make  no 
profit  directly  on  the  sale  of  these,  he  is  indirectly  but  substantially 
benefited  by  whatsoever  shall  increase  the  annual  production  of 
his  township,  and  thus  the  ability  of  his  customers  to  purchase  and 
consume  his  goods.  The  merchant  whose  customers  and  neighbors 
are  enabled  to  turn  off  three,  five,  seven,  or  nine  hundred  dollars' 
worth  of  produce  per  annum  from  farms  which  formerly  yielded 
but  one  or  two  hundred  dollars'  worth,  beyond  the  direct  consump 
tion  of  their  occupants,  is  in  the  true  and  safe  road  to  competence 
and  wealth  if  he  knows  how  to  manage  his  business.  Every  wild 
wood  or  waste  morass  rendered  arable  and  fruitful,  every  field 
made  to  grow  fifty  bushels  of  grain  per  acre  where  but  fifteen  or 
twenty  were  formerly  realized,  is  a  new  tributary  to  the  stream  of 
his  trade,  and  so  clearly  conducive  to  his  prosperity." 

IN    WHAT    SENSE    HE   CONSIDERS    HIMSELF   A    POLITICIAN. 

"  If  the  designation  of  politician  is  a  discreditable  one,  I  trust  I 
have  done  nothing  toward  making  it  so.  If  to  consider  not  only 
what  is  desirable,  but  what  is  possible  as  well,  —  if  to  consider  in 
what  order  desirable  ends  can  be  attained,  and  attempt  them  in 
that  order,  —  if  to  seek  to  do  one  good  so  as  not  to  undo  another, 
—  if  either  or  all  of  these  constitute  one  a  politician,  I  do  not  shrink 
from  the  appellation." 

HORACE  GREELEY'S  TOAST,  SENT  TO  A  "KNOW-NOTHING"  BANQUET. 

"  The  Comrades  of  Washington,  —  Let  us  remember  that,  while 
the  '  foreigners '  Montgomery  and  Pulaski  died  gloriously,  fighting 
for  our  freedom,  while  Lafayette,  Hamilton,  and  Steuben  proved 
nobly  faithful  to  the  end,  the  traitor  Arnold  and  the  false  ingrate 
Burr  were  sons  of  the  soil,  —  facts  which  only  prove  that  virtue  is 
bounded  by  no  geographical  limits,  and  treachery  peculiar  neither 
to  the  native  nor  the  immigrant." 


HIS    REPLY   TO    A    BEGGING    LETTER.  571 

HIS    REPLY    TO    A    BEGGING   LETTER. 

To  THE  EDITOR  OF  THE  NEW  YORK  TRIBUNE:  — 

MY  DEAR  SIR:  —  The  young  gentlemen  of  the  Philologian  Literary  So 
ciety  of  the  Masonic  College  request  me  to  tender  their  sincere  regards  to 
you  and  ask  if  you  will  be  so  kind  as  to  donate  to  them  a  copy  of  the  Weekly 
Tribune.  The  Society  consists  of  fifty  students,  who  are  anxious  to  form,  for 
their  sole  benefit,  a  reading-room  in  their  hall. 

"  While  we  all  abhor  your  principles,  we  respect  you  as  a  talented  and  hon 
orable  foe ;  and  your  paper  would  be  cheerfully  welcomed  in  our  hall,  not  for 
the  principles  which  it  advocates,  but  for  the  ability  with  -which  they  are 
promulgated.  Be  assured,  sir,  that  we  will  all  feel  under  many  obligations  if 
you  will  make  us  such  a  present.  With  gratitude  and  respect, 

"  S.  C.  H.,  Corresponding  Secretary. 

"  LEXINGTON,  Mo.,  January  30, 1855." 

"REPLY. 

"MR.  SECRETARY:  —  Among  those  'principles'  which  you  say 
you  abhor,  this  one  is  prominent,  namely,  that  God  having  wisely 
and  benignly  ordered  his  universe  that  Something  can  never  be  ac 
quired  for  Nothing,  —  that  '  so  much  for  so  much '  is  the  eternal 
and  immutable  law,  —  man  should  conform  his  conduct  to  this  be 
neficent  law.  The  robber,  the  swindler,  the  beggar,  the  slave 
holder,  all  vainly  suppose  that  there  is  some  other  way  of  acquir 
ing  and  enjoying  the  products  of  other  men's  labor  than  by  paying 
for  it;  but  God  says  no,  and  he  will  be  obeyed.  Steal,  cheat,  beg, 
or  enslave  as  you  may,  you  can  at  best  but  postpone  payment,  — 
it  will  at  last  be  exacted  with  fearful  usury.  In  short,  as  there  is 
no  other  proper  way,  so  there  is  no  other  way  so  cheap,  when  we 
desire  aught  that  is  produced  by  the  labor  of  others,  as  to  fork  over 
the  needful.  —  lay  it  right  down  on  the  nail.  You  will  see,  there 
fore,  that  those  detested  principles,  which  you  are  at  liberty  hence 
forth  to  abhor  more  than  ever,  forbid  my  complying  with  your 
delicately  worded  request. 

"  EDITOR  TRIBUNE." 

HIS  REPLY  TO  ANOTHER. A.  B.  TO  HORACE  GREELEY. 

"DEAR  SIR:  —  In  your  extensive  correspondence,  you  have  undoubtedly 
secured  several  autographs  of  the  late  distinguished  American  poet,  Edgar  A. 
Poe.    If  so,  will  you  please  favor  me  with  one,  and  oblige, 
"  Yours,  respectfully, 

"A.B." 


572  MISCELLANEOUS. 

HORACE    GREELEY    TO    A.    B. 

"  DEAR  SIR  :  —  I  happen  to  have  in  my  possession  but  one  auto 
graph  of  the  late  distinguished  American  poet,  Edgar  A.  Poe.     It 
consists  of  an  I.  0.  U.,  with  my  name  on  the  back  of  it.     It  cost 
me  just  $  50,  and  you  can  have  it  for  half  price. 
"Yours, 

"  HORACE  GREELEY." 


CHAPTER    XXXVI. 

CONCLUSION. 

Mr.  Greeley's  appearance  and  phrenology— A  visit  to  his  residence— His  ambition— He 
does,  not  count  majorities. 

HORACE  GTREELEY,  in  this  year  1867,  is  fifty-five  years  of  age. 
He  stands  five  feet  ten  and  a-  half  inches,  and  weighs,  perhaps,  one 
hundred  and  fifty-five  pounds.  He  stoops  a  little,  and  in  walking 
he  swings  from  side  to  side,  something  in  the  manner  of  a  plough 
man.  Seen  from  behind,  he  looks,  as  he  walks  with  head  de 
pressed,  bended  back,  and  swaying  gait,  like^an  old  man ;  an  illu 
sion  which  is  heightened,  if  a  stray  lock  of  white  hair  escapes  from 
under  his  hat.  But  the  expression  of  his  face  is  singularly  and 
engagingly  youthful.  His  complexion  is  extremely  fair,  and  a 
smile  plays  ever  upon  his  countenance.  His  head,  measured  round 
the  organs  of  Individuality  and  Philoprogenitiveness,  is  twenty- 
three  and  a  half  inches  in  circumference,  which  is  considerably 
larger  than  the  average.  His  forehead  is  round  and  full,  and  rises 
into  a  high  and  ample  dome.  The  hair  is  white,  inclining  to  red 
at  the  ends,  and  thinly  scattered  over  the  head.  Seated  in  com 
pany,  with  his  hat  off,  he  looks  not  unlike  the  "  Philosopher  "  he  is 
often  called ;  no  one  could  take  him  for  a  common  man. 

According  to  the  Phrenological  Journal,  his  brain  is  very  large, 
in  the  right  place,  well  balanced,  and  of  the  best  form,  long,  nar 
row,  and  high.  It  indicates,  says  the  same  authority,  small  animal- 
ity  and  selfishness,  extreme  benevolence,  natural  nobleness,  and 
loftiness  of  aim.  His  controlling  organs  are  Adhesiveness,  Benev 
olence,  Firmness,  and  Conscientiousness.  Reverence  is  small;  De- 
structiveness  and  Acquisitiveness  less.  Amativeness  and  Philo 
progenitiveness  are  fully  developed.  The  Love  of  Approbation  is 
prominent;  Self-Esteem  not  so.  Resistance  and  Moral  Courage 
are  very  full;  Secretiveness  full;  Cautiousness  large;  Continuity 
small;  Ideality  fair;  Taste  very  small;  Imitation  small;  Mirthful- 
ness  very  large;  Eventuality  and  Comparison  large;  Language 
good;  Reasoning  better;  Agreeableness  deficient;  Intuition  great; 


574  CONCLUSION. 

Temperament  active.  His  body,  adds  the  Phrenologist,  is  not 
enough  for  his  head. 

In  manner,  Horace  Greeley  is  still  a  rustic.  The  Metropolis  has 
not  been  able  to  make  much  impression  upon  him.  He  lives  amidst 
the  million  of  his  fellow-citizens,  in  their  various  uniforms,  an  unas- 
similated  man. 

I  have  seen  Horace  Greeley  in  Broadway  on  Sunday  morning 
with  a  hole  in  his  elbow  and  straws  clinging  to  his  hat.  I  have 
seen  him  asleep  while  Alboni  was  singing.  When  he  is  asked  re 
specting  his  health,  he  answers  sometimes  by  the  single  word 
"stout,"  and  there  the  subject  drops.  He  is  a  man  who  might  save 
a  nation,  but  never  learn  to  tie  a  cravat ;  no,  not  if  Brummell  gave 
him  a  thousand  lessons. 

A  young  gentleman  who  visited  him  on  a  Saturday  evening, 
some  years  ago,  thus  relates  the  interview :  — 

"  In  point  of  pretension,  Horace  Greeley's  house  is  about  midway 
between  the  palaces  of  the  Fifth  Avenue  and  the  hovels  of  the  Five 
Points.  It  is  one  of  a  row  of  rather  small  houses,  two  and  a  half 
stories  high,  built  of  brick,  and  painted  brown ;  the  rent  of  which, 
I  was  told,  is  likely  to  be  about  seven  hundred  dollars  a  year.  It 
was  a  chilly,  disagreeable  evening.  I  went  early,  hoping  to  have 
a  little  talk  with  the  editor  before  other  company  should  arrive.  I 
rang  the  bell,  and  looked  through  the  pane  at  the  side  of  the  door. 
The  white  coat  was  not  upon  its  accustomed  peg,  and  the  old  hat 
stuffed  with  newspapers  was  not  in  its  usual  place  at  the  bottom 
of  the  hat-stand.  Therefore  I  knew  that  the  wearer  of  these  arti 
cles  was  not  at  home,  before  the  '  girl '  told  me  so ;  but,  upon  her 
informing  me  that  he  was  expected  in  a  few  minutes,  I  concluded 
to  go  in  and  wait.  The  entrance-hall  is  exceedingly  narrow,  and 
the  stairs,  narrower  still,  begin  at  a  few  feet  from  the  door,  afford 
ing  room  only  for  the  hat-stand  and  a  chair.  The  carpet  on  the 
stairs  and  hall  was  common  in  pattern,  coarse  in  texture.  A  lady, 
the  very  picture  of  a  prosperous  farmer's  wife,  with  her  clean  de 
laine  dress  and  long,  wide,  white  apron,  stood  at  the  head  of  the 
stairs,  and  came  down  to  meet  me.  She  lighted  the  gas  in  the 
parlors,  and  then,  summoned  by  the  crying  of  a  child  up  stairs,  left 
me  to  my  observations. 

"  Neither  I  nor  anybody  else  ever  saw  parlors  so  curiously  fur 
nished.  There  are  three  of  them,  and  the  inventory  of  the  furni- 


A   VISIT   TO   HIS   RESIDENCE.  575 

ture  would  read  thus :  One  small  mahogany  table  at  the  head  of  the 
front  parlor ;  one  lounge  in  ditto ;  eleven  light  cane-chairs  in  front 
and  back  parlors;  one  bookcase  of  carved  black-walnut  in  the 
small  apartment  behind  the  back  parlor;  and,  except  the  carpets, 
not  another  article  of  furniture  in  either  room.  But  the  walls  were 
almost  covered  with  paintings;  the  mantel-pieces  were  densely 
peopled  with  statuettes,  busts,  and  medallions ;  in  a  corner  on  a 
pedestal  stood  a  beautiful  copy  of  Powers' s  Proserpine  in  marble ; 
and  various  other  works  of  art  were  disposed  about  the  floor  or 
leaned  against  the  walls.  Of  the  quality  of  the  pictures  I  could 
not,  in  that  light,  form  an  opinion.  The  subjects  of  more  than 
half  of  them  were  religious,  such  as,  the  Virgin ;  Peter,  lovest  thou 
me  ?  Christ  crowned  with  thorns ;  Mary,  Joseph,  and  Child ;  Vir 
gin  and  Child ;  a  woman  praying  before  an  image  in  a  cathedral ; 
Mary  praying ;  Hermit  and  Skull ;  and  others.  There  were  some 
books  upon  the  table,  among  them  a  few  annuals  containing  con 
tributions  by  Horace  G-reeley,  volumes  of  Burns,  Byron,  and  Haw 
thorne,  Downing's  Rural  Essays,  West's  complete  analysis  of  the 
Holy  Bible,  and  Ballou's  Voice  of  Universalism. 

"  I  waited  an  hour.  There  came  a  double  and  decided  ring  at 
the  bell.  No  one  answered  the  summons.  Another  and  most  tre 
mendous  ring  brought  the  servant  to  the  door,  and  in  a  moment 
the  face  of  the  master  of  the  house  beamed  into  the  room.  He 
apologized  thus :  '  I  ought  to  have  been  here  sooner,  but  I  could  n't.' 
He  flung  off  his  overcoat,  hung  it  up  in  the  hall,  and,  looking  into 
the  parlor,  said,  '  Just  let  me  run  up  and  see  my  babies  one  min 
ute  ;  I  have  n't  seen  'em  all  day,  you  know ' ;  and  he  sprung  up  the 
stairs  two  steps  at  a  time.  I  heard  him  talk  in  high  glee  to  the 
children  in  the  room  above  for  just  '  one  minute,'  and  then  he  re 
joined  me.  He  began  to  talk  something  in  this  style :  — 

" '  Sit  down.  I  have  had  a  rough  day  of  it,  —  eaten  nothing  since 
breakfast, — just  got  in  from  my  farm,  —  been  up  the  country  lec 
turing. —  started  from  G-oshen  this  morning  at  five,  —  broke  down, 
—  crossed  the  river  on  the  ice,  — had  a  hard  time  of  it,  — ice  a  good 
deal  broken  and  quite  dangerous,  —  lost  the  cars  on  this  side,  — 
went  dogging  around  to  hire  a  conveyance,  —  got  to  Sing  Sing,  — 
went  over  to  my  farm  and  transacted  my  business  there  as  well  as 
I  could  in  the  time,  —  started  for  the  city,  and  as  luck  would  have 
it,  they  had  taken  off  the  four  o'clock  train,  —  did  n't  know  that  I 


576  CONCLUSION. 

should  get  down  at  all,  —  harnessed  up  my  own  team,  and  pushed 
over  to  Sing  Sing  again, — hadn't  gone  far  before  snap  went  the 
whiffletree,  —  got  another  though,  and  reached  Sing  Sing  just  two 
minutes  before  the  cars  came  along,  —  I  've  just  got  in,  —  niy  feet 
are  cold,  — let 's  go  to  the  fire.' 

"With  these  words,  he  rose  quickly  and  went  into  the  back 
room,  not  to  the  fireplace,  but  to  a  corner  near  the  folding-door, 
where  hot  air  gushed  up  from  a  cheerless  round  hole  in  the  floor. 
His  dress,  as  I  now  observed,  amply  corroborated  his  account  oi 
the  day's  adventures,  —  shirt  all  crumpled,  cravat  all  awry,  coat  all 
wrinkles,  stockings  about  his  heels,  and  general  dilapidation. 

"  I  said  it  was  not  usual  at  the  West  to  go  into  a  corner  to  warm 
one's  feet;  to  which  he  replied  by  quoting  some  verses  of  Holmes 
which  I  did  not  catch.  I  entreated  him  to  go  to  tea,  as  he  must 
be  hungry,  but  he  refused  'pine  blank.'  The  conversation  fell  upon 
poetry.  He  said  there  was  one  more  book  he  should  like  to  make 
before  he  died,  and  that  was  a  Song-Book  for  the  People.  There 
was  no  collection  of  songs  in  existence  which  satisfied  his  idea  of 
what  a  popular  song-book  ought  to  be.  He  should  like  to  compile 
one,  or  help  do  it.  He  said  he  had  written  verses  himself,  but  was 
no  poet;  and  bursting  into  a  prolonged  peal  of  laughter,  he  added, 
that  when  he  and  Park  Benjamin  were  editing  the  New-Yorker, 
he  wrote  some  verses  for  insertion  in  that  paper,  and  showed  them 
to  'Park,'  and  'Park'  roared  out,  'Thunder  and  lightning,  Greeley, 
do  you  call  that  poetry  ?  '  Speaking  of  a  certain  well-known  versi 
fier,  he  said :  '  He  's  a  good  fellow  enough,  but  he  can't  write  po 
etry,  and  if had  remained  in  Boston,  he  would  have  killed 

him,  he  takes  criticism  so  hard.  As  for  me,  I  like  a  little  opposi 
tion,  I  enjoy  it,  I  can't  understand  the  feeling  of  those  thin-skinned 
people.' 

"  I  said  I  had  been  looking  to  see  what  books  he  preferred  should 
lie  on  his  table.  'I  don't  prefer,'  he  said;  'I  read  no  books.  I 
have  been  trying  for  years  to  get  a  chance  to  read  Wilhelm  Meis- 
ter,  and  other  books.  Was  Goethe  a  dissolute  man  ? '  To  which 
I  replied  with  a  sweeping  negative.  This  led  the  conversation  to 
biography,  and  he  remarked:  '  How  many  wooden  biographies  there 
are  about.  They  are  of  no  use.  There  are  not  half  a  dozen  good 
biographies  in  our  language.  You  know  what  Carlyle  says :  "I 
want  to  know  what  a  man  eats,  what  time  he  gets  up,  what  color 


A   VISIT    TO    HIS    RESIDENCE.  577 

his  stockings  are  "  ? '  (His,  on  this  occasion,  were  white,  with  a 
hole  in  each  heel.)  '  There  's  no  use  in  any  man's  writing  a  biog 
raphy  unless  he  can  tell  what  no  one  eke  can  tell.'  Seeing  me 
glance  at  his  pictures,  he  said  he  had  brought  them  from  Italy,  but 
there  was  only  one  or  two  of  them  that  he  boasted  of. 

"  A  talk  upon  politics  ensued.  He  said  he  had  had  enough  of 
party  politics.  He  would  speak  for  temperance,  and  labor,  and 
agriculture,  and  some  other  objects,  but  he  was  not  going  to  stump 
the  country  any  more  to  promote  the  interest  of  party  or  candi 
dates.  In  alluding  to  political  persons  he  used  the  utmost  freedom 
of  vituperation,  but  there  was  such  an  evident  absence  of  anger 
and  bitterness  on  hie  part,  that  if  the  vituperated  individuals  had 
overheard  the  conversation,  they  would  not  have  been  offended, 
but  amused.  Speaking  of  association,  he  said,  *  Ah !  our  working- 
men  must  be  better  educated ;  we  must  have  better  schools ;  they 
must  learn,  to  confide  in  one  another  more;  then  they  will  asso 
ciate,'  Then,  laughing,  he  added,  '  If  you  know  anybody  afflicted 
with  democracy,  tell  him  to  join  an  association ;  that  will  cure  him 
if  anything  will ;  still,  association  will  triumph  in  its  day,  and  in  its 

own  way,'  In.  reply  to  G- 's  definition  of  Webster  as  *  a  petty 

man,-  with  petty  objects,  sought  by  petty  means,'  he  said,  '  I  call 

him  a •  but  his  last  reply  to  Hayne  was  the  biggest 

speech  yet  made;  it's  only  so  long,'  pointing  to  a  place  on  his  arm, 
*but  it's  very  great'  Another  remark  on  another  subject  elicited 
from  him  the  energetic  assertion  that  the  '  invention  of  the  key  was 
the  Devil's  masterpiece,'  Alluding  to  a  recent  paragraph  of  his,  I 
said  I  thought  it  the  best  piece  of  English  he  had  ever  written. 
1  No,'  he  replied,  '  there 's  a  bad  repetition  in  it  of  the  word  sober  in 
the  same  sentence ;  I  can  write  better  English  than  that.'  I  told 
him  of  the  project  of  getting  half  a  dozen  of  the  best  men  and  wo 
men  of  the  country  to  join  in  preparing  a  series  of  school  reading- 
books.  He  said,  ^  They  would  be  in  danger  of  shooting  over  the 
heads  of  the  children.'  To  which  I  replied,  'No;  it  is  common 
men  who  do  that ;  great  men  are  simple,  and  akin  to  children.' 

"  A  little  child,  four  years  old,  with  long  flaxen  hair  and  rud-dy 
cheeks,  came  in  and  said,  *  Mother  wants  you  up  stairs.'  He  caught 
it  up  in  his  arms  with  every  manifestation  of  excessive  fondness, 
saying,  *  No,  you  rogue,  it 's  you  that  want  him ' ;  and  the  child 
wriggled  out  of  his  arms  and  ran  away. 

25  KK 


578  CONCLUSION. 

"  As  I  was  going,  some  ladies  came  in,  and  I  remained  a  moment 
longer,  at  his  request.  He  made  a  languid  and  quite  indescribable 
attempt  at  introduction,  merely  mentioning  the  names  of  the  ladies 
with  a  faint  bob  at  each.  One  of  them  asked  a  question  about  Spir 
itualism.  He  said,  '  I  have  paid  no  attention  to  that  subject  for  two 
years.  I  became  satisfied  it  would  lead  to  no  good.  In  fact,  I  am 
so  taken  up  with  the  things  of  this  world,  that  I  have  too  little 
time  to  spend  on  the  affairs  of  the  other.'  She  said,  '  A  distinction 
ought  to  be  made  between  those  who  investigate  the  phenomena 
as  phenomena,  and  those  who  embrace  them  fanatically.'  'Yes,' 
said  he,  '  I  have  no  objection  to  their  being  investigated  by  those 
who  have  more  time  than  I  have.'  'Have  you  heard,'  asked  the 
lady,  '  of  the  young  man  who  personates  Shakespeare  ? '  '  No,'  he 
replied,  '  but  I  am  satisfied  there  is  no  folly  it  will  not  run  into.' 
Then  he  rose  and  said,  '  Take  off  your  things  and  go  up  stairs.  I 
must  get  some  supper,  for  I  have  to  go  to  that  meeting  at  the 
Tabernacle  to-night '  (anti-Nebraska). 

"  As  I  passed  the  hat-stand  in  the  hall,  I  said,  '  Here  is  that  im 
mortal  white  coat.'  He  smiled  and  said,  '  People  suppose  it 's  the 
same  old  coat,  but  it  is  n't.'  I  looked  questioningly,  and  he  con 
tinued,  l  The  original  white  coat  came  from  Ireland.  An  emigrant 
brought  it  out ;  he  wanted  money  and  I  wanted  a  coat ;  so  I  bought 
it  of  him  for  twenty  dollars,  and  it  Was  the  best  coat  I  ever  had. 
They  do  work  well,  in  the  old  countries ;  not  in  such  a  hurry  as 
we  do.' 

"  The  door  closed,  and  I  Was  alone  with  the  lamp-post.  In  an 
other  hour,  Horace  G-reeley,  after  such  a  day  of  hunger  and  fatigue, 
was  speaking  to  an  audience  of  three  thousand  people  in  the 
Tabernacle." 

This  narrative,  with  other  glimpses  previously  afforded,  will  per 
haps  give  the  reader  a  sufficient  insight  into  Horace  Greeley's  hur 
ried,  tumultuous  way  of  life. 

Not  every  day,  however,  is  as  hurried  and  tumultuous  as  this. 
Usually,  he  rises  at  seven  o'clock,  having  returned  from  the  office 
about  midnight.  He  takes  but  two  meals  a  day,  breakfast  at  eight, 
dinner  when  he  can  get  it,  generally  about  four.  Tea  and  coffee 
he  drinks  never ;  cocoa  is  his  usual  beverage.  To  depart  from  his 
usual  routine  of  diet,  or  to  partake  of  any  viand  which  experience 
has  shown  to  be  injurious,  he  justly  denominates  a  "sin/T  and 


HIS   AMBITION.  579 

"  groans  "  over  it  with  very  sincere  repentance.  A  public  dinner  is 
one  of  his  peculiar  aversions;  and,  indeed,  it  may  be  questioned 
whether  human  nature  ever  presents  itself  in  a  light  more  despica 
ble  than  at  a  public  dinner,  particularly  towards  the  close  of  the 
entertainment.  Mr.  Greeley  is  a  regular  subscriber  to  the  New 
York  Tribune,  and  pays  for  it  at  the  usual  rate.  As  soon  as  it  ar 
rives  in  the  morning,  he  begins  the  perusal  of  that  interesting  paper, 
and  examines  every  department  of  it  with  great  care,  bestowing 
upon  each  typographical  error  a  heartfelt  anathema.  His  letters 
arrive.  They  vary  in  number  from  twenty  to  fifty  a  day ;  every 
letter  requiring  an  answer  is  answered  forthwith ;  and,  not  unfre- 
quently,  twenty  replies  are  written  and  despatched  by  him  in  one 
morning.  In  the  intervals  of  work,  there  is  much  romping  with 
the  children.  But  two  are  left  to  him  out  of  six*  Toward  noon, 
or  soon  after,  the  editor  is  on  his  way  to  his  office. 

Mr.  Greeley  has  few  intimate  friends  and  no  cronies.  He  gives 
no  parties,  attends  few;  has  no  pleasures,  so  called;  and  suffers 
little  pain.  In  some  respects,  he  is  exceedingly  frank ;  in  others, 
no  man  is  more  reserved.  For  example,  his  pecuniary  affairs, 
around  which  most  men  throw  an  awful  mystery,  he  has  no  scru 
ples  about  revealing  to  any  passing  stranger,  or  even  to  the  public ; 
and  that  .in  the  fullest  detail.  But  he  can  keep  a  secret  with  any 
man  living,  and  he  seldom  talks  about  what  interests  him  most. 
Margaret  Fuller  had  a  passion  for  looking  at  the  naked  souls  of  her 
friends ;  and  she  often  tried  to  get  a  peep  into  the  inner  bosom  of 
Horace  G-reeley ;  but  he  kept  it  buttoned  close  against  her  observa 
tion.  Indeed,  the  kind  of  revelation  in  which  she  delighted  he 
entirely  detests,  as  probably  every  healthy  mind  does. 

He  loves  a  joke,  and  tells  a  comic  story  with  great  glee.  His 
cheerfulness  is  habitual,  and  probably  he  never  knew  two  consecu 
tive  hours  of  melancholy  in  his  life.  His  manner  is  sometimes  ex 
ceedingly  ungracious ;  he  is  not  apt  to  suppress  a  yawn  in  the  pres 
ence  of  a  conceited  bore ;  but  if  the  bore  is  a  bore  innocently,  he 
submits  to  the  infliction  with  a  surprising  patience.  He  has  a  sin 
gular  hatred  of  bungling,  and  rates  a  bungler  sometimes  with  ex 
traordinary  vehemence. 

He  clings  to  an  opinion,  however,  or  a  prejudice,  with  the  tena 
city  of  his  race ;  and  has  rarely  been  brought  to  own  himself  in  the 
wrong.  If  he  changes  his  opinion,  which  sometimes  he  does,  he 
may  show  it  by  altered  conduct,  seldom  by  a  confession  in  words. 


580  CONCLUSION. 

The  great  object  of  Horace  Greeley's  personal  ambition  has  been 
to  make  the  Tribune  the  best  newspaper  that  ever  existed,  and  the 
leading  newspaper  of  the  United  States.  To  a  man  inflamed  with 
an  ambition  like  this,  the  temptation  to  prefer  the  popular  to  the 
right,  the  expedient  to  the  just,  comes  with  peculiar,  with  un 
equalled  force.  No  pursuit  is  so  fascinating,  none  so  absorbing, 
none  so  difficult.  The  competition  is  keen,  the  struggle  intense, 
the  labor  continuous,  the  reward  doubtful  and  distant.  And  yet, 
it  is  a  fact  that,  on  nearly  every  one  of  its  special  subjects,  the  Trib 
une  has  stood  opposed  to  the  general  feeling  of  the  country.  Its 
course  on  slavery  excluded  it  from  the  Slave  States.  When  the 
whole  nation  was  in  a  blaze  of  enthusiasm  about  the  triumphs  of 
the  Mexican  war,  it  was  not  easy  even  for  a  private  person  to  re 
frain  from  joining  in  the  general  huzza.  But  not  for  one  day  was 
the  Tribune  forgetful  of  the  unworthiness  of  those  triumphs,  and 
the  essential  meanness  of  the  conflict.  There  were  clergymen  who 
illuminated  their  houses  on  the  occasion  of  those  disgraceful  victo 
ries,  —  one,  I  am  told,  who  had  preached  a  sermon  on  the  unchris 
tian  character  of  the  Tribune. 

Mr.  Greeley  wrote,  some  time  ago  :  — 

"  We  are  every  day  greeted  by  some  sage  friend  with  a  caution 
against  the  certain  wreck  of  our  influence  and  prosperity  which  we 
defy  by  opposing  the  secret  political  cabal  commonly  known  as 
1  the  Know-Nothings.'  One  writes  us  that  he  procured  one  hun 
dred  of  our  present  subscribers,  and  will  prevent  the  renewal  of 
their  subscriptions  in  case  we  persist  in  our  present  course ;  another 
wonders  why  we  will  destroy  our  influence  by  resisting  the  pop 
ular  current,  when  we  might  do  so  much  good  by  falling  in  with  it 
and  guiding  it  and  so  on. 

"  To  the  first  of  these  gentlemen  we  say :  *  Sir,  we  give  our  time 
and  labor  to  the  production  of  the  Tribune,  because  we  believe 
that  to  be  our  sphere  of  usefulness;  but  we  shall  be  most  happy  to 
abandon  journalism  for  a  less  anxious,  exacting,  exhausting  voca 
tion,  whenever  we  are  fairly  and  honorably  released  from  this. 
You  do  not  frighten  us,  therefore,  by  any  such  base  appeals  to  our 
presumed  selfishness  and  avarice ;  for  if  you  could  induce  not  merely 
your  hundred  but  every  one  of  our  subscribers  to  desert  us,  we 
should  cheerfully  accept  such  a  release  from  our  present  duties,  and 
try  to  earn  a  livelihood  in  some  easier  way.  So  please  go  ahead  1 ' 


HE    DOES    NOT    COUNT    MAJORITIES.  581 

"And  now  to  our  would-be  friend  who  suggests  that  we  are 
wrecking  our  influence  by  breasting  the  popular  current :  '  Good 
sir!  do  you  forget  that  whatever  influence  or  consideration  the 
Tribune  has  attained  has  been  won,  not  by  sailing  with  the  stream, 
but  against  it  ?  On  what  topic  has  it  ever  swam  with  the  current, 
except  in  a  few  instances  wherein  it  has  aided  to  change  the  cur 
rent?  Would  any  one  who  conducted  a  journal  for  popularity's 
or  pelf's  sake  be  likely  to  -have  taken  the  side  of  liquor  prohibition, 
or  anti-slavery,  or  woman's  rights,  or  suffrage  regardless  of  color, 
when  we  did  ?  Would  such  a  one  have  ventured  to  speak  as  we 
did  in  behalf  of  the  anti-renters,  when  everybody  hereabouts  was 
banded  to  hunt  them  down  unheard  ?  Can  you  think  it  probable 
that,  after  what  we  have  dared  and  endured,  we  are  likely  to  be 
silenced  now  by  the  cry  that  we  are  perilling  our  influence  ?  ' 

"  And  now,  if  any  would  prefer  to  discontinue  the  Tribune  be 
cause  it  is  and  must  remain  opposed  to  every  measure  or  scheme 
of  proscription  for  opinion's  sake,  we  beg  them  not  to  delay  one 
minute  on  our  account.  We  shall  all  live  till  it  is  our  turn  to  die, 
whether  we  earn  a  living  by  making  newspapers  or  by  doing  some 
thing  else." 

These  words  were  written  fifteen  years  ago.  If  we  may  judge 
from  recent  events,  the  editor  of  the  Tribune  has  not  changed  his 
system  since. 


APPENDIX. 


HOEACE  GREELEY'S  ADVICE  TO  AMERICAN  FARMERS. 

AN  ADDRESS  AT  THE  FAYETTE  COUNTY  AGRICULTURAL  FAIR,   CONNERS- 
VILLE,   INDIANA,  SEPTEMBER   8,   1858. 

MR.  PRESIDENT  AND  FRIENDS:  — I  consider  the  preparation  of  an  agricul 
tural  address,  by  one  whose  every-day  life  is  not  that  of  a  practical  farmer, 
the  most  discouraging  task  ever  undertaken  by  man.  It  must  be  begun  and 
prosecuted  to  completion  in  full  view  of  the  fact  that  those  who  are  to  be  won, 
if  possible,  to  listen  to  the  whole  or  some  part  of  it,  are  inflexibly  rooted  and 
grounded  in  two  primary  convictions :  first,  that  they  have  little  or  nothing  to 
learn  on  the  subject;  and,  secondly,  that,  even  if  they  could  be  taught,  he  can 
not  teach  them.  He  is  aware  that  he  was  invited  to  speak,  not  because  he  was 
supposed  capable  of  imparting  any  useful  information,  —  that,  if  that  had  been 
the  object,  a  very  different  sort  of  person  would  have  been  applied  to, — but 
because  he  is  either  a  pliant  lawyer,  known  to  possess  a  glib  facility  of  talk 
ing,  talking,  on  any  subject,  whether  he  knows  anything  or  nothing  about  it, 
in  a  way  to  please  a  crowd;  or  else  he  has  somehow  acquired  a  notoriety  that 
will  help  create  an  interest  and  a  buzz  throughout  the  adjacent  country,  and 
thus  draw  dimes  into  the  Society's  not  usually  overburdened  treasury.  He  is 
in  fact  some  fancy  zebra  or  mustang  which  the  enterprise  of  the  managers  has 
hired  to  increase,  if  it  may  be,  the  attractions  and  profit  of  the  show.  I  have 
been  a  good  many  times  invited  to  speak  at  these  gatherings ;  but  I  cannot 
recollect  that  one  of  these  invitations  urged  as  a  reason  why  I  should  accept 
that  I  could  probably  say  something  that  the  Society  or  its  patrons  might  prof 
itably  hear  and  consider.  No  speaker  at  an  agricultural  fair  thinks  of  being 
offended  or  mortified  because,  after  he  has  been  holding  forth  fifteen  or  twenty 
minutes,  a  majority  of  the  young  people  who  first  crowded  the  area  in  front 
of  him,  finding  their  position  constrained  and  uncomfortable,  and  that  he  is 
merely  talking  plain,  homely  common  sense  about  soils,  crops,  cultivation,  and 
fertilizers,  conclude  that  longer  listening  will  not  pay,  and  quietly  sidle  off  to 
locations  in  which  they  may  enjoy  the  freedom  of  the  grounds  and  the  delights 
of  each  other's  society.  Is  it  any  wonder,  then,  that  the  great  majority  of 
speakers  at  these  fairs  find  it  advisable  to  deal  out  wares  c'arefully  adapted  to 
the  popular  demand,  to  glorify  the  American  farmer  as  the  wisest,  greatest, 
happiest  of  earthly  beings,  and  his  rural  home  as  the  focus  of  all  celestial 


584  APPENDIX. 

virtue  and  mundane  bliss,  or  to  mount  the  high-soaring  American  eagle  and 
incite  him  to  expand  his  umbrageous  wings  until  one  of  them  shall  overshadow 
Cape  Horn,  and  the  other  intercept  the  sunlight  that  else  would  gleam  on  the 
icy  bosom  of  Hudson's  Bay,  winding  up  at  length  with  a  tribute  to  u  our  fair 
countrywomen,"  and  especially  to  those  whose  bright  eyes  now  dazzle  and 
transfix  him,  as  the  most  lovely,  enchanting,  angelic  creatures  whose  cluster 
ing  ringlets  breeze  ever  fluttered,  on  whose  seraphic  faces  sun  ever  shone  1 

I  lack  taste  for  that  style  of  oratory,  —  probably  because  I  lack  ability  to 
excel  in  it.  If  I  ever  am  moved  by  its  utterance,  the  influence  ceases  with 
the  last  tones  of  the  orator's  voice,  and,  in  my  colder,  natural  mood,  I  earnestly 
ask,  If  this  is  all  so,  what  use  in  talking-  to  such  favored,  such  exalted  beings  ? 
—  at  least,  what  use  in  my  talking?  Why  not  rather  invite  them  to  speak, 
while  I  listen  and  learn,  since  I  am  sadly  aware  that  my  knowledge  of  agri 
culture  is  very  crude  and  imperfect?  If  the  actual,  average  husbandry  of  our 
farmers  is  indeed  so  wise,  so  skilful,  so  conformed  to  the  truths  of  science  and 
the  dictates  of  reason,  why  do  they  form  and  sustain  societies,  and  hold  fairs, 
and  offer  premiums  ?  All  these  are,  to  my  mind,  indications  of  a  desire  for 
improvement,  which  implies  a  consciousness  of  present  imperfection  or  defi 
ciency.  I  know  that  with  many  the  State  or  county  fair  is  a  mere  spectacle 
or  holiday;  but  I  insist  that,  if  enjoyment  were  its  sole  end,  then  a  circns 
would  be  quite  as  effective,  and  got  up  at  far  less  expense.  He  whom  an  ag 
ricultural  fair  may  not  teach  can  spend  his  time  more  profitably  elsewhere. 

But  whether  I  am  or  am  not  qualified  to  instruct.  I  know  that  the  great  body 
of  the  farmers  of  this  country  sadly  need  instruction.  I  know  they  might,  if 
•wiser,  secure  a  larger  reward  for  their  labor  than  they  now  do.  I  know  they 
might  not  only  have  larger  but  surer  harvests  than  they  now  obtain.  I  know 
that  they  might  and  should  be  more  intelligent,  more  thrifty,  less  in  debt, 
more  thoroughly  comfortable,  than  they  have  yet  been.  I  realize  that  they 
are  to-day  in  the  enjoyment  of  great  advantages,  great  blessings ;  but  I  insist 
that  they  make  their  life-struggle  under  great  impediments  also,  and  that  these 
must  and  should  be  removed,  while  the  former  shall  be  cherished  and  preserved. 
These  convictions  inform  the  argument  and  direct  the  aim  of  this  address. 

Let  me  deal  decisively  at  the  outset  with  that  mistaken  consciousness  of 
self-sufficiency  which  is  the  chief  obstacle  to  agricultural  progress.  It  is  by 
no  means  a  local  infirmity,  —  in  fact,  I  know  not  a  locality  absolutely  free  from 
it.  -Bayard  Taylor,  at  the  close  of  his  last  winter's  survey  of  modern  Greece, 
whose  naturally  fertile  soil  has  been  afflicted  and  exhausted  by  thirty  centu 
ries  of  ruinous  abuse  at  the  hands  of  enslaved  or  oppressed  and  benighted  cul 
tivators,  finds  in  the  enormous  self-conceit  of  the  people  the  fatal  obstacle  to 
improvement  in  Greek  tillage.  "  To  crown  the  Greek's  shortcomings  as  an 
agriculturist,"  says  Taylor,  "add  his  egregious  vanity,  which  prevents  him 
from  suspecting  that  there  is  any  knowledge  in  the  world  superior  to  his  own." 
And  he  proceeds  to  relate  how  an  Euglish  farmer,  now  twenty-four  years  set 
tled  in  Greece,  finds  it  impossible  to  get  anything  done  as  it  should  be,  because 
evei-y  laborer  he  employs  insists  on  teaching  him  how  to  do  it,  instead  of  obey 
ing  his  directions.  The  same  spirit  is  to-day  rampant  in  venerable,  conserva- 


HORACE  GKEELEY'S  ADVICE  TO  AMERICAN  FARMERS.     585 

tive  China,  in  Western  Asia,  in  Spain,  as  well  as  among  the  West  India  negroes, 
who,  when  furnished  by  their  masters'  humanity  with  wheelbarrows  in  order 
that  they  might  no  longer  cany  such  enormous  loads  on  their  heads,  persisted 
in  carrying  their  burdens  in  the  good  old  way,  wheelbarrows  and  all.  Hence 
Iwas  hardly  surprised  to  find,  at  the  council-board  of  the  great  World's  Exhi 
bition  in  London,  that  Mr.  Philip  Pusey,  who  there  represented  British  agricul 
ture,  and  who  was  undoubtedly  one  of  the  most  enlightened  and  best  farmers 
in  the  kingdom,  had  absolutely  no  conception  that  there  existed  any  knowl 
edge,  any  practice,  any  implement  even,  in  the  round  world  beside,  by  which 
British  agriculture  could  be  advanced  or  profited.  He  evidently  presumed 
that  to  give  premiums  for  ploughs,  for  instance,  with  sole  regard  to  their  abso 
lute  merits,  would  be  to  have  those  premiums  all  monopolized  by  British  in 
ventors  and  manufacturers,  at  the  risk  of  offending  and  mortifying  those  of  all 
other  countries ;  and  the  triumph  of  an  American  reaper,  which  he  was  among 
the  first  to  acknowledge  and  to  crown,  was  to  him  even  more  an  astonishment 
than  a  gratification.  I  instance  this  most  intelligent,  successful,  eminent  agri 
culturist,  to  indicate  how  universal  these  prejudices  are.  While  nearly  every 
other  vocation  is  pursued  under  circumstances  which  invite  and  facilitate  a 
constant  comparison  of  processes,  progress,  efficiency,  results,  each  farm  is  to 
some  extent  insulated,  if  not  isolated,  and  its  round  of  labors  is  prosecuted 
without  much  regard  to  what  is  doing  on  the  next  farm,  and  much  less  in  the 
next  township.  The  unparalleled  frequency  of  migration,  and  the  consequent 
frequency  of  visits  from  the  new  homes  to  the  old  hearths,  and  reciprocally, 
somewhat  modify  this  inertia  among  us ;  the  benignant  influence  of  our  fairs, 
still  more  of  our  agricultural  press,  battles  it  with  even  greater  efficiency;  but 
it  nevertheless  remains  deplorably  true  that  improvements  are  diffused  more 
slowly  and  adopted  more  reluctantly  in  agriculture,  than  in  any  other  depart 
ment  of  productive  industry. 

But,  without  further  preface,  let  me  indicate  in  the  brief,  suggestive  form 
required  by  the  occasion,  what,  in  my  judgment,  are  the  principal  needs  of 
American  agriculture. 

I.  I  place  at  the  head  of  all,  the  need  of  an  adequate  conception  by  farmers 
of  the  nature  and  the  worth  of  their  vocation.  In  taking  this  position,  I  put 
aside  as  impertinent,  or  trivial,  or  chaffy,  all  mere  windy  talk  of  the  dignity, 
honor,  and  happiness  of  the  farmer's  calling.  When  I  hear  any  one  dilate  in 
this  vein,  I  want  to  look  him  square  in  the  eye  and  ask,  "  Sir,  do  you  know  a 
farmer  who  acts  and  lives  as  though  he  believed  one  word  of  this  ?  Do  you 
know  one  who  chooses  the  brightest,  ablest,  best  instructed  among  his  four  or 
five  sons,  and  says  to  him,  '  Let  the  rest  do  as  they  please,  I  want  you  to  suc 
ceed  me  in  the  old  homestead,  and  be  the  best  fanner  in  the  country '  ?  "  Do 
you  know  one  who  really  believes  that  his  son  who  is  to  be  a  farmer  requires 
as  liberal  and  as  thorough  an  education  as  his  brothers  who  are  to  be  respec 
tively  lawyer,  doctor,  and  divine  ?  Do  you  know  one  who  is  to-day  personally 
tilling  the  soil,  who,  if  he  were  enabled  to  choose  for  his  only  and  darling  son 
just  what  career  he  preferred  above  all  others,  would  make  him  a  fanner?  If 
vou  do  know  such  a  farmer,  —  and  I  confess  /  do  not,  —  then  I  say  you  know 
25* 


586  .  APPENDIX. 

one  who  will  not  be  offended  at  anything  I  shall  say  implying  that  agriculture 
is  not  now  the  liberal  and  liberalizing  vocation  it  should  and  yet  must  be. 
Whenever  the  great  mass  of  our  farmers  shall  have  come  fully  to  realize  that 
the.re  is  scope  and  reward  in  their  own  pursuit  for  all  the  knowledge  and  all 
the  wisdom  with  which  their  sons  can  be  imbued,  —  rare  geniuses  as  we  know 
many  of  them  are,  —  then  we  shall  have  achieved  the  first  great  step  toward 
making  agriculture  that  first  of  vocations  which  it  rightfully  should  be.  But 
to-day  it  is  the  current  though  unavowed  belief  of  the  majority,  —  and  of  farm 
ers  even  more  than  of  others,  —  that  any  education  is  good  enough  for  a  hus 
bandman,  and  that  any  blockhead  who  knows  enough  to  come  in  when  it  rains 
is  qualified  to  manage  a  farm. 

II.  The  need  of  our  agriculture  next  in  order  is  a  correction  of  the  common 
error,  that  farming  is  an  affair  of  muscle  only ;  and  that  the  best  farmer  is  he 
who  delves  and  grubs  from  daylight  to  dark,  and  from  the  first  of  January  to 
the  last  of  December.  You  will  not,  I  am  sure,  interpret  me  as  undervaluing 
industry,  diligence,  force ;  certainly,  you  will  not  believe  me  to  commend  that 
style  of  farming  which  leaves  time  for  loitering  away  sunny  hours  in  bar 
rooms,  and  for  attending  every  auction,  horse-race,  shooting-match,  or  mon 
key-show  that  may  infest  the  township.  I  know  right  well  that  he  who  would 
succeed  in  any  pursuit  must  carefully  husband  his  time,  making  every  hour 
count.  What  I  maintain  is,  that,  while  every  hour  has  its  duties,  they  are  not 
all  muscular;  and  that  the  farmer  who  would  wisely  and  surely  thrive  must 
have  time  for  mental  improvement  as  well  as  for  physical  exertion.  I  know 
there  are  farmers  who  decline  to  take  regularly  any  newspaper,  even  one  de 
voted  to  agriculture,  because  they  say  they  can't  afford  it,  or  have  no  time  to 
read  it.  I  say  no  farmer  can  afford  to  do  without  one.  To  attempt  it  is  a 
blunder  and  a  loss;  if  he  has  children  growing  up  around  him,  it  is  moreover 
a  grievous  wrong.  If  every  hard-working  farmer,  who  says  he  cannot  read  in 
summer,  because  it  is  a  hurrying  season,  were  to  set  apart  two  hours  of  each 
day  for  reading  and  reflection,  he  would  not  only  be  a  wiser  and  happier  man 
than  if  he  gave  every  hour  to  mere  labor,  —  he  would  live  in  greater  comfort 
and  acquire  more  property.  To  dig  is  easily  learned ;  but  to  learn  how,  where, 
and  when  to  dig  most  effectively  is  the  achievement  of  a  lifetime.  There  is  no 
greater  and  yet  no  more  common  mistake  than  that  which  confounds  inces 
sant,  exhausting  muscular  effort  with  the  highest  efficiency  in  farming.  I 
know  men  who  have  toiled  early  and  late,  summer  and  winter,  with  resolute 
energy  and  ample  strength,  through  their  forty  years  of  manhood,  yet  failed 
to  secure  a  competence,  not  because  they  have  been  specially  unfortunate,  as 
they  are  apt  to  suppose,  but  because  they  lacked  the  knowledge  and  skill,  the 
wisdom  and  science,  that  would  have  enabled  them  to  make  their  exertions 
tell  most  effectively.  They  have  been  life-long  workers ;  but  they  have  not 
known  how  to  work  to  the  greatest  advantage.  Each  of  them  has  planted  and 
sowed  enough  to  shield  him  from  want  for  the  remainder  of  his  days ;  but 
when  the  time  came  for  reaping  and  gathering  into  barns,  his  crops  were  defi 
cient.  One  year,  too  much  rain ;  the  next  year,  too  little ;  now  an  untimely 
frost,  and  then  the  ravage  of  insects,  have  baffled  his  exertions  and  blasted 


HORACE  GREKLEY'S  ADVICE  TO  AMERICAN  FARMERS.    587 

his  hopes,  and  left  him  in  the  down-hill  of  life  still  toiling  for  a  hand-to-mouth 
subsistence.  I  think  the  observation  of  almost  any  of  you  will  have  furnished 
parallels  in  this  respect  for  my  own. 

III.  Now  I  am  quite  aware  that  no  conceivable  acquirements  and  precau 
tions,  no  attainable  wisdom  and  foresight,  can  absolutely  guard  the  farmer 
against  disappointments  and  disasters.  As  the  ablest  seamanship  will  not 
always  triumph  over  the  angry,  warring  elements,  so  the  most  thorough,  skil 
ful  husbandry  will  not  always  avert  from  the  fruitful  field  the  ravages  of  frost, 
or  hail,  or  flood.  It  is  only  in  a  qualified,  yet  nevertheless  a  very  important 
sense,  that  the  maxim,  "  God  is  on  the  side  of  the  heaviest  artillery,  the 
strongest  battalions,"  is  true.  We  cannot  certainly  affirm  that  the  man  who 
farms  excellently  will  this  year  have  a  bountiful  harvest,  and  that  his  shiftless, 
down-at-the-heel  neighbor  will  not  have  half  a  crop ;  for  the  elements  may  in 
either  case  derange  our  calculations  and  defeat  our  pi'edictions.  But  what 
may  be  doubtful  with  regard  to  a  single  year's  operations  and  their  results  is 
not  at  all  questionable  when  we  embrace  within  our  purview  the  operations 
of  a  lifetime.  The  pendulum  njay  swing  ever  so  fur  this  way,  then  that,  but 
does  not  the  less  obey  the  inexorable  law  of  gravitation;  and,  in  spite  of  tem 
porary  and  seeming  aberrations,  the  connection  of  cause  with  effect  is  constant, 
perfect,  eternal.  The  good  farmer,  he  whose  fences  never  fail  to  protect  his 
crops,  and  whose  crops  are  so  dealt  with  that  they  require  and  justify  protec 
tion,  who  ploughs  deeper  and  better,  manures  his  land  more  bountifully,  sows 
his  grain  earlier,  tills  his  fields  more  thoroughly,  and  keeps  down  weeds  more 
vigorously,  will  not  only  have  more  bushels  per  acre,  but  he  will  grow  his 
grain  cheaper  per  bushel,  secure  larger  average  profits,  and  thrive  far  better, 
than  his  easy-going  neighbor  who  ploughs  in  May,  plants  in  June,  finds  no 
time  for  makjng  composts,  manures  fitfully  and  sparingly,  and  tills  grudgingly. 
In  any  field  of  honorable  exertion,  success  follows  thoroughness  and  crowns 
merit.  Were  it  not  so,  the  universe  would  be  a  riddle,  and  the  distinction  be 
tween  right  and  wrong  a  subtlety  or  an  accident. 

I  fear  these  truths  need  reiterating  in  this  great  valley  of  the  Mississippi 
with  an  emphasis  that  would  be  out  of  place  in  a  more  sterile  region.  I  have 
been  accustomed  for  thirty  years  to  hear  "  the  West"  commended  as  a  region 
SQ  fertile  that  manures  were  superfluous,  and  thoroughness  in  cultivation  a 
sheer  waste  of  effort.  That  naturally  rich  virgin  prairies,  often  resting  on  de 
caying  limestone,  their  surface  blackened  with  the  ashes  of  five  thousand  an 
nual  conflagrations,  will  produce  better  crops  than  the  rugged  hillsides  of  New 
England,  where  the  yellow  soil  scarcely  covers  the  unrelenting  granite  or  sand 
stone,  and  whence  two  centuries  of  exhausting  cultivation  have  wrenched 
nearly  every  plant-forming  substance  which  rains  and  thaws  have  not  mean 
time  washed  away,  is  a  very  manifest  truth.  Jt  needs  no  Liebig,  no  science, 
no  subtle  analysis,  tp  teach  us  that.  But  I  do  gravely  dispute  the  cuiTent  as 
sumption  that,  as  a  general  rule,  though  poor  spils  may  pay  for  fertilizing,  rich 
ones  will  not.  I  apprehend  that  the  absolute  truth  is  just  the  opposite  of  this; 
that  it  js  the  fanner's  tiiie  economy,  if  his  fai'm  be  large  and  his  means  but 
moderate,  to  apply  not  only  his  labor  but  his  fertilizers  to  his  best  soils  to  the 


588  APPENDIX. 

neglect  of  the  poorest,  leaving  the  latter  in  pasture,  or  in  wood,  or  in  common, 
as  circumstances  may  determine.  It  seems  tolerably  clear  that  a  soil  that 
contains  ninety  per  cent  of  the  elements  of  a  bounteous  harvest  will  better 
reward  the  addition  of  the  remaining  ten  per  cent,  than  one  containing  but 
twenty  to  forty  per  cent  of  those  elements  will  reward  any  application  what 
ever.  I  may  possibly  be  wrong  in  this ;  but  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  the 
grievous  mistake  of  running  over  too  much  land;  of  increasing  the  area  of 
cultivation  rather  than  the  acreable  product ;  of  striving  rather  to  bring  a  whole 
farm  into  a  state  of  middling  fertility  than  to  make  the  best  part  of  it  produce 
the  largest  possible  crops,  is  quite  as  common  in  the  West  as  at  the  East. 

JV.  And  here  we  find  ourselves  face  to  face  with  the  great  problem  of  SCI 
ENCE  IN  FARMING,  which  seems  to  me  the  central  present  need  of  American 
agriculture.  Say,  if  you  will,  that  what  is  termed  agricultural  science  —  soil 
analysis,  special  fertilizers,  and  all  that  —  is  quackery  and  humbug;  that 
nobody  ever  did  or  ever  could  tell  by  chemically  analyzing  a  soil  what  it 
would  produce  to  greatest  profit,  or  what  could  be  most  profitably  added  to 
render  it  still  more  productive,  —  and  I  shall  not  contradict  you.  The  more 
urgent  your  proofs  that  no  science  of  agriculture  now  exists,  the  more  obvious 
is  the  truth  that  one  is  urgently  needed.  The  carpenter,  joiner,  cabinet-maker, 
who  buys  plank,  boards,  joists,  beams,  or  lathing,  —  who  orders  oak,  pine, 
hemlock,  spruce,  or  mahogany, — knows  just  what  he  is  buying  and  what  he 
can  do  with  it.  But  how  many  farmers  in  a  thousand  who  every  year  buy 
lime,  plaster,  bones,  guano,  or  other  fertilizers,  know  just  what  they  are,  and 
what  they  will  do  for  them  ?  How  many,  even  of  those  who  freely  buy  this 
or  that  substance  to  enrich  their  lands,  and  who  have  better  crops  since  than 
before  such  purchase,  know  how  much  of  the  improvement  is  due  to  more  fa 
vorable  seasons  or  better  culture,  how  much  to  the  improved  composition  of 
the  soil  ?  /  try  to  be  an  improving  farmer,  —  I  keep  my  eyes  open  and  my 
prejudices  under  foot,  —  I  may  be  very  ignorant,  but  I  know  I  am  not  unwill 
ing  to  learn,  —  I  have  covered  my  forty  acres  successively  with  almost  every 
fertilizer  I  could  buy,  and  I  know  that  I  have  greatly  increased  their  fertility, 
—  but  how  much  of  this  is  due  to  this  ingredient  and  how  much  to  that,  — 
whether  my  lime,  or  my  plaster,  or  my  guano,  or  my  ground  bones,  or  my 
phosphate,  was  the  better  purchase,  —  which  of  them  has  proved  worth  more 
than  its  cost,  and  which,  if  any,  was  a  bad  investment,  I  have  scarcely  an 
idea.  Had  I  been  able  to  live  on  my  farm  and  constantly  watch  every  devel 
opment,  I  am  sure  I  should  have  known  more  on  this  subject  than  I  now  do. 
But  so  various  are  the  original  or  the  acquired  conditions  of  our  soils,  so  mul 
tiform  and  so  complex  are  the  influences  of  soil  and  climate,  rain  and  sunshine, 
season  and  culture,  that  any  one  man's  observation,  even  though  continued 
through  a  lifetime,  could  go  but  a  little  way  toward  establishing  the  great 
landmarks  of  the  science  we  need.  But  difficulty  is  not  impossibility;  and 
the  most  majestic  edifices  are  slowly,  toilsomely  built  up,  stone  after  stone. 
We  ought  to  have  a  thousand  patient  observers  and  careful  recorders  of  agri 
cultural  phenomena  where  we  now  have  a  dozen ;  each  school  district  should 
have  its  chemical  laboratory  and  circle  of  experiments ;  demonstrations  should 


HORACE  GREELEY'S  ADVICE  TO  AMERICAN  FARMERS.   589 

be  multiplied,  sifted,  collated,  until,  in  the  crucible  of  genius,  a  true  science 
of  agriculture  should  gradually  be  evolved,  —  a  science  which  shall  ultimately 
teach  the  farmer  to  buy  or  combine  just  such  fertilizers  as  his  pai'ticular  soil 
needs,  and  in  such  forms  and  quantities  as  are  precisely  adapted  to  its  needs. 
This  will  be  a  great  achievement,  —  one  that  may  well  employ  a  busy  century, 
—  but  it  is  so  necessary,  and  will  prove  so  widely  beneficent,  that  it  cannot  be 
too  soon  attempted  nor  too  rapidly  urged  to  completion. 

V.  Meantime,  however,  it  is  requisite  that  the  farmers  of  this  country 
should  acquire  a  knowledge  of  Entomology,  or  the  laws  of  insect  life.  Our 
agriculture  is  in  danger  of  local  if  not  general  destruction  through  the  multi 
plication  and  ravages  of  devastators  too  numerous  and  too  disgusting  or  con 
temptible  to  be  singly  exterminated,  yet  whose  conjoint  attacks  upon  us  are 
more  formidable  and  more  destructive  than  those  of  any  human  adversary. 
Onr  grandfathers  dreaded  and  loathed  the  Hessian  soldiers  brought  over  to 
subdue  or  slaughter  them;  but  what  were  their  devastations  to  those  of  the 
Hessian  fly  ?  The  frogs  of  Egypt,  the  clouds  of  locusts  that  often  strip  the 
southern  and  eastern  coasts  of  the  Mediterranean  bare  of  every  green  leaf, 
begin  to  be  paralleled  by  the  grasshopper  pests  of  our  remoter  prairies.  The 
midge,  the  weevil,  the  chinch-bug,  the  fly,  are  rendering  the  cultivation  of 
our  great  bread  staple  every  year  more  precarious,  and  its  yield  more  and 
more  meagre.  Caterpillars  and  other  vermin  infest,  injure,  and  ultimately 
destroy  our  fruit-trees.  Grubs  and  wireworms  devour  our  seed  in  the  ground ; 
bugs  are  equally  pernicious  to  our  melons ;  and  it  is  now  pretty  well  settled 
that  the  potato-rot  and  the  oat-rust  are  the  work  of  minute,  but  none  the  less 
destructive  insects.  The  improvement  and  careful  use  of  the  microscope  will 
doubtless  prove  in  time  that  scores  of  mysterious  and  inscrutable  diseases,  to 
which  not  only  plants  but  animals  fall  a  prey,  have  a  kindred  origin.  And 
these  devastations  are  palpably  increasing  in  extent  and  mischief  with  each 
recurring  year.  We  must  arrest  and  repel  them,  or  the  farmer's  vocation  will 
be  ruined,  and  thousands  perish  for  lack  of  food. 

The  vulgar  error  that  nothing  can  be  effectually  done  to  stop  these  ravages, 
that  insects  must  be  allowed  to  come  when  they  will,  do  what  they  like, 
and  go  when  they  please,  is  the  great  obstacle  to  their  speedy  extermination. 
In  fact,  it  would  not  be  half  so  difficult  to  cope  with  worms  as  with  wolves,  if 
we  only  understood  them  as  well.  Their  safety,  their  power,  is  in  our  heed- 
lessness,  our  ignorance,  our  unwise  despair.  I  have  no  doubt  that  every  one 
of  them  could  be  put  out  of  the  way,  not  only  without  great  cost,  but  with  ab 
solute  profit,  apart  from  the  advantage  of  being  rid  of  them,  if  we  only  knew 
what  we  might  surely  though  slowly  learn  with  regard  to  their  origin,  habits, 
and  vulnerable  points.  I  do  not  pretend  to  know  just  how  they  should  be 
treated,  but  I  venture  the  prediction,  that  the  cheap,  abundant  alkalis,  —  salt, 
lime,  potash,  nitre,  —  will  ultimately  be  applied  to  seeds  and  to  soils  in  which 
these  pests  lurk  in  the  germ  or  in  infancy,  and  that  they  will  thus  be  cut  off  by 
acres,  leaving  none  to  tell  the  tale  of  their  swift  and  total  destruction.  If  there 
be  any  of  them  impervious  to  alkalis,  the  acids  —  which  are  easily  produced, 
and  even  cheaper  — will  be  found  effectual.  What  we  need  to  know  is  just 


590  APPENDIX. 

when  and  how  to  apply  these  caustics  so  as  to  destroy  the  adversary,  root  and 
branch,  yet  not  injure,  but  rather  benefit,  the  soil  and  the  expected  crops.  Here 
opens  a  wide  field  of  useful  observation  and  effort,  simple  and  easy  to  be  ex 
plored,  and  certain  to  reward  the  intelligent  and  patient  investigator.  Until 
it  shall  have  been  traced  out,  the  microscope  should  be  always  in  the  house, 
when  it  is  not  in  the  hand,  of  every  leading  farmer,  and  experiment  should  go 
hand  in  hand  with  observation.  Ten  years  thus  improved  would  enable  us 
to  save  our  now  imperilled  and  half*destroj'ed  crops  at  a  cost  below  what  we 
now  pay  for  threshing  out  grain  -*.  or  rather  straw  —  which  the  ravages  of  in 
sects  have  rendered  seedless,  and  thus  worthless. 

I  have  indicated  the  microscope  as  an  instrument  which  should  be  always 
on  the  premises  and  often  in  the  hands  of  the  improving  farmer;  but  I  cannot 
begin  here  to  indicate  the  multifarious  and  important  uses  which  it  might,  and 
ultimately  must,  be  made  to  subserve.  The  water  of  springs,  wells,  brooks, 
or  artificial  reservoirs,  when  used  for  culinary  purposes,  and  even  that  from 
which  animals  are  allowed  to  drink,  ought  to  be  subjected  to  its  scrutiny,  so 
as  to  detect  the  presence  of  any  vitiating  or  perilous  substance  in  particles  too 
minute  to  be  detected  by  the  unaided  eye.  The  vegetable  world,  closely 
scanned  by  its  help,  reveals  not  wonders  merely,  but  lessons  by  which  the 
wisest  and  the  most  ignorant  alike  may  profit.  I  suspect  there  cannot  be 
mam'  whose  consciousness  of  their  own  ignorance  would  not  be  deepened  — 
as  I  confess  mine  was  —  by  a  glance  at  the  microscopically  magnified  photo 
graphic  illustrations  of  Dr.  Goadby's  "  Animal  and  Vegetable  Physiology," 
just  published  by  the  Appletons.  I  then  and  there  truly  saw,  for  the  first 
time,  many  things  that  I  had  been  looking  at  quite  frequently  from  early 
childhood  without  at  all  understanding  them.  How  many  of  us,  for  instance, 
who  have  an  every-day  familiarity  with  the  green  substance  which  is  seen 
each  summer  floating  in  and  upon  shallow  pools  of  stagnant,  tepid  water,  and 
which  is  popularly  attributed  in  some  manner  to  frogs,  because  frogs  are  ad 
dicted  to  such  pools,  know  that  it  is  a  living  vegetable,  -r-  as  fully  so  as  oats 
or  clover  ?  How  many  are  even  aware  that  the  purest  brook  water  is  full  of 
living  animals,  too  minute  to  be  discovered  by  the  human  eye,  but  not  too 
small  to  have  perfect  organs  and  external  relations,  and  to  love  and  fight,  to 
grudge  and  covet,  to  be  envious  and  jealous,  in  a  spirit  very  absurd,  no  doubt, 
in  its  occasional  manifestations,  but  which  does  not  necessarily  separate  them 
from  human  interest  and  human  sympathy  ? 

Another  instrument  which  seems  to  me  destined  to  play  an  important  part 
in  the  future  economy  of  farming  is  the  barometer.  The  alternations  of  storm 
and  calm,  cloud  and  sunshine,  are  of  deepest  interest  to  the  mariner;  next  to 
him  they  most  concern  the  farmer,  who  is  often  a  heavy  loser  by  a  bad  guess 
as  to  what  will  be  the  weather  for  the  next  twelve  or  twenty-four  hours.  But 
why  should  he  rest  content  with  guessing,  when  science  has  provided  an  in 
strument  by  which  changes  of  weather  may  be  foretold  with  a  very  decided 
approach  to  certainty?  Why  should  not  the  oldest,  thriftiest  ftirmer  in  each 
school-district  put  up  his  barometer  where  it  may  be  freelv  visited  and  in 
spected  by  his  neighbors,  especially  through  the  critical  season  of  the  summer 


HORACE  GKEELEY'S  ADVICE  TO  AMERICAN  FARMERS.   591 

harvest  ?  Why  should  not  the  telegraph  apprise  us  whenever  a  storm  is  rag 
ing  within  two  or  three  hundred  miles  of  us,  letting  us  know  where  and  when 
it  began,  in  what  direction  it  has  since  moved,  and  what  winds  now  prevail 
in  its  vicinity,  so  that  we  may  safely  compute  the  chances  and  the  probable 
time  of  its  appearance  in  our  neighborhood  ?  Doubtless,  the  first  deductions 
from  such  observations  would  be  crude,  imperfect,  and  often  mistaken;  but 
experience  would  gradually  and  surely  correct  our  errors  and  improve  our 
conclusions,  until  we  should  be  qualified,  by  the  help  of  the  telegraph  and  the 
barometer  combined,  to  anticipate  the  weather  with  as  much  confidence  as 
we  now  do  the  advent  of  spring,  summer,  or  winter.  I  may  err  as  to  the 
means,  but  not  as  to  the  fact  that  beneficent  progress  in  this  direction  is  feasi- 
ble ;  therefore,  in  this  day  of  light  and  investigation,  inevitable. 

VI.  One  of  the  greatest  present  needs  of  agriculture  is  a  habit  of  recording 
and  journalizing  their  experience  for  public  use  and  benefit  on  the  part  of 
thoroughly  practical  men.    Day  after  day,  we,  who  are  termed  theorizers, 
city  farmers,  dabblers  in  agriculture,  are  reminded  of  the  superiority  of  prac 
tice  to  theory,  fact  to  speculation,  ~—  as  if  we  had  ever  disputed  that  aver 
ment.    Day  after  day  we  ineffectually  respond,  "Yes,  we  know  it;  we  want 
facts ;  we  wish  to  profit  by  your  experience ;  do  not  confine  it  to  the  narrow 
limits  of  your  farm  and  your  life,  but  let  us  have  it  so  recorded  and  displayed 
that  all  may  acquire,  comprehend,  and  profit  by  it."    But  those  who  say  most 
of  the  superiority  of  practice  to  theory  are  the  last  to  give  the  world  the  bene 
fit  of  their  practice.    How  many  corn-growers  in  Indiana  can  tell  what  has 
been  the  precise  cost  per  bushel  of  the  corn  they  have  grown  in  each  of  the 
last  five  or  ten  years  ?    How  many  can  tell,  even  for  their  own  guidance,  what 
crops  they  have  grown  to  the  greatest  profit,  and  which  have  involved  them 
in  loss,  during  any  term  of  years?    How  many  know  what  the  live  stock 
which  they  have  raised  and  now  own  has  cost  them  ?    Who  knows  what  the 
intrinsic  value  of  a  hundred  acres  of  good  corn  land  at  a  given  point  on  the 
Wabash  or  Miami  is,  and  how  many  dollars,  more  or  less,  it  should  command 
per  acre  than  just  such  land  in  another  given  locality,  therefore  more  or  less 
convenient  to  market  ?     These,  and  a  thousand  like  questions,  require  practi 
cal  solutions,  and  practical  men  should  promptly  grapple  with  them.     The 
thriving  artisan,  mechanic  and  manufacturer,  all  count  the  cost  of  their  sev 
eral  undertakings  and  products  ;  if  they  find  they  are  making  an  article  that 
does  not  pay,  they  speedily  relinquish  it  for  another  more  promising.     Will 
any  one  say  that  this  is  generally  the  case  with  our  farmers  ? 

VII.  It  is  a  melancholy  truth,  that,  while  the  acreable  product  of  Great 
Britain  has  increased  at  least  fifty  per  cent  within  the  last  century,  that  of 
the  United  States  has  actually  fallen  off!     With  all  our  boasted  progress,  our 
fairs  and  premiums,  our  books  and  periodicals  treating  who%  or  mainly  of 
agriculture,  our  subsoil  ploughs  and  vastly  improved  implements,  our  self- 
glorifying  orations  and  addresses  at  gatherings  like  this,  and  our  constant 
presumption  and  assumption  that  no  people  were  ever  so  enlightened  and  free 
from  antiquated  prejudices  as  ours,  this  is  the  net  result.     Even  I  can  remem 
ber  when  New  England  farmers  grew  wheat  as  an  ordinary  crop  ;  now  you 


592  APPENDIX. 

shall  not  find  a  patch  of  wheat  grown  this  year,  or  to  be  grown  next  on  one 
New  England  farm  in  every  five  hundred.  Thirty-five  years  ago,  when  I  was 
a  boy  employed  at  land-clearing  in  Western  Vermont,  I  used  to  see  thirty  or 
forty  wheat-laden  wagons  pass  daily,°in  October  and  November,  on  their  way 
to  market  at  Troy  or  Albany;  now  Vermont  does  not  export  a  bushel  of 
wheat,  but  imports  at  least  two  thirds  of  the  wheaten  flour  consumed  by  her 
people.  In  those  days  Western  New  York  produced  larger  crops  of  wheat 
than  any  other  section  of  our  Union,  and  "  Genesee  flour"  was  about  the 
best  that  could  be  bought  anywhere;  to-day,  New  England  not  only  does  not, 
but  could  not,  by  her  ordinary  processes,  produce  eight  bushels  of  wheat  to 
each  arable  acre,  while  the  product  of  my  own  State  does  not  exceed  ten 
bushels  from  each  acre  sown.  We  are  dreaming  of  buying  our  cloth  mainly 
abroad,  and  paying  for  it  in  grain  and  flour,  —  a  feat  which  no  decently  dressed 
nation  was  ever  yet  able  to  accomplish ;  yet  our  ability  to  grow  grain  is  stead 
ily  decreasing;  and  we  are  quite  likely,  before  the  close  of  this  century,  to  be 
n-nable  to  grow  enough  for  our  own  use.  Our  longest  cultivated  soil  is,  in  the 
average,  far  poorer  this  day  than  it  was  when  Columbus  first  set  foot  on  the 
shore  of  the  New  World,  and  the  larger  part  of  it  is  steadily  growing  worse. 
Old  Jamestown,  the  site  of  the  first  successful  attempt  by  Englishmen  to  col 
onize  North  America,  could  be  bought  to-day  for  less  than  it  was  worth  in 
John  Smith's  time;  and  Plymouth  Rock,  though  not  quite  so  badly  run  down, 
cannot  prudently  take  on  airs  at  the  expense  of  her  rival.  There  are  hun 
dreds  of  square  miles  together  of  Maryland,  Virginia,  and  the  Carolinas,  that 
yield  absolutely  nothing,  and  are  scarcely  worth  taking  as  a  gift:  that  is  to 
say,  it  would  be  cheaper  to  buy  good  lands  at  fifty  dollars  per  acre  than  to 
take  these  as  a  present,  and  make  them  worth  as  much  as  the  former.  In 
whole  sections,  they  know  no  other  way  of  renovating  worn-out  fields  than  to 
throw  them  out  into  common,  and  let  them  grow  up  to  bushes,  and  ultimately 
to  wood,  then  clear  and  start  afresh,  —  which  is  a  little  behind  the  agricultu 
ral  wisdom  of  the  days  of  Moses.  Two  thirds  of  the  originally  wooded  area 
of  our  country  has  been  opened  to  civilization  by  pioneers  who  knew  no  bet 
ter —  at  least,  they  did  no  better — than  to  extract  the  potash  from  the  ashes 
of  the  primitive  forest  and  sell  it  for  less  than  the  average  cost  of  the  process, 
thus  robbing  their  future  industry,  their  future  harvests,  of  an  element  of  most 
agricultural  products  worth  to  them  at  least  twenty  times  what  they  receive 
for  it.  So  two  thirds  of  the  bones  of  our  dead  animals  have  been  quietly  gath 
ered  from  the  gutters  and  rubbish-heaps  cf  our  cities  and  villages,  and  shipped 
off  to  England  or  Belgium,  to  fertilize  fields  already  far  better  supplied  with 
phosphate  than  ours,  the  American  farmers  looking  on  or  co-operating  with  a 
heedlessness  which  would  have  discredited  the  stupidity  of  their  own  oxen. 
After  forty  years  of  this  ruinous  traffic,  they  begin  to  wake  up,  —  I  mean,  a 
few  of  them  do,  —  and  discover  that  these  bones,  which  have  not  yielded  to  the 
gatherers  more  than  ten  cents  per  bushel,  and  which  they  might  have  secured 
for  au  average  of  less  than  twenty,  were  worth  at  least  fifty,  —  that  a  soil  from 
which  bones  have  been  extracted  without  return,  by  means  of  pasturing  and 
hay-cutting  for  a  century,  is  incapable  of  producing  either  bones  or  milk  ad- 


HORACE  GREELEY'S  ADVICE  TO  AMERICAN  FARMERS.    593 

vantageously  to  the  farmer  until  the  slow  and  unheeded  extraction  of  its  phos 
phates  has  been  counteracted  by  replacing  them  in  some  form;  that  what 
ever  is  taken  from  a  good  soil  must  somehow  be  replaced,  or  that  soil  is 
impoverished,  and  must  run  out;  that  the  farmer's  art  consists  in  extracting 
these  elements  in  their  most  useful  and  valuable  combinations,  and  replacing 
them  in  those  of  least  cost ;  that  he  who  only  knows  how  to  grow  great  crops, 
knowing  or  caring  little  of  the  best  means  of  restoring  their  equivalents  to  the 
soil,  is  exactly  half  a  farmer. 

Are  these  hackneyed  truths  ?  Theoretically,  they  may  be ;  but  practically 
they  were  never  more  applicable,  more  necessary,  more  urgent,  than  they  are 
to-day.  You  of  this  magnificent  valley  of  the  Mississippi  are  living  as  a  peo 
ple  in  their  constant  and  flagrant  violation.  Blindly  confiding  in  the  marvel 
lous  fertility  and  depth  of  your  soil,  you  are  taking  grain-crop  after  grain- 
crop  so  long  as  grain  will  grow,  in  utter  forgetfulness  that  each  bushel  exported 
from  your  State,  your  county,  renders  your  soil  absolutely  poorer,  and  that 
the  process  must  end  in  utter  exhaustion  and  sterility ;  for  you  are  imparting 
little  or  nothing  to  repay  the  soil  for  these  heavy  and  constant  drafts  upon  it. 
In  view  of  this  mistaken  policy,  the  grand  improvements  recently  made  or 
now  promised  in  agricultural  machinery,  cast  before  them  a  shadow  that  is 
absolutely  baleful.  In  the  old  days,  when  the  plough  was  a  forked  hickory, 
with  the  longer  prong  for  a  beam  and  the  shorter  for  a  coulter,  and  with  other 
implements  of  like  rudeness  and  inefficiency,  the  tillage  might  be  —  and  was 
—  very  unskilful  and  erroneous,  but  the  earth  was  too  slightly  scratched  to 
be  by  any  means  exhausted.  But  now  that  we  are  on  the  eve  of  steam 
ploughing  and  correspondent  advances,  the  old  safeguards  against  the  extreme 
consequences  of  human  ignorance  and  perverseness  lose  their  efficiency.  We 
talk,  for  instance,  of  certain  long-cxiltivated  portions  of  the  seaboard  Slave 
States  as  worn  out,  exhausted,  ruined,  worthless;  when  they  have  really 
never  been  disturbed,  and  of  course  are  not  at  all  injured  by  cultivation,  ex 
cept  for  the  first  four  or  five  inches  below  their  surface.  So,  measurably,  with 
the  past  cultivation  of  the  Great  West.  But  when  the  steam  plough  comes 
snorting  and  tearing  through  your  great  prairies,  turning  up  and  pulverizing 
their  soil  to  a  depth  of  two  and  even  three  feet,  then  you  will  realize  great 
crops  at  first,  with  welcome  security  against  both  flood  and  drouth,  but  paral 
leled  by  an  exhaustion  of  the  soil  more  rapid  and  thorough  than  the  world 
has  ever  known.  Then  you  will  understand  why  I  feel  and  say  that  a  Euro 
pean  market  for  your  grain  and  meat  is  a  snare  and  a  curse  to  you,  —  that  it 
gives  to  your  industry  the  drunkard's  exhilaration  that  must  be  followed  by 
the  drunkard's  prostration  and  despair,  —  that  no  country  ever  did  or  ever 
can  really  prosper  by  the  production  of  rude,  bulky  staples,  and  their  ex 
change  in  distant,  foreign  lands  for  the  finer  fabrics  and  tissues  which  civil 
ized  comfort  and  fashion  require,  —  that  every  acre  of  this  State  of  Indiana 
would  be  worth  far  more  this  day  if  a  bale  of  cloth  or  a  case  of  silks  could 
never  more  reach  us  from  the  Old  World.  For  every  year  of  the  present 
course  of  industry  and  trade  is  diminishing  the  essential  value  of  your  soil ; 
and  the  more  bounteous  your  harvests  the  greater  is  this  fatal  depreciation. 

LL 


594  APPENDIX. 

Let  me  hope,  at  least,  that  some  means  of  arresting  it  will  be  found  ere  your 
fields  shall  have  shared  the  fate  of  those  of  too  many  on  the  seaboard,  out  of 
which  nearly  all  that  is  valuable  has  been  extracted  in  the  shape  of  wheat, 
corn,  tobacco,  and  live  stock,  and  shipped  away  to  increase  the  fertility  of 
countries  which,  because  they  are  predominantly  manufacturing,  therefore 
intelligent,  thrifty,  and  constantly  receiving  and  absorbing  agricultural  staples 
from  abroad,  are  already  the  most  fertile  and  productive  on  earth. 

VIII.  I  rank  among  the  urgent  needs  of  our  agriculture  a  more  intimate 
and  brotherly  intercourse  among  our  neighboring  farmers  and  their  families. 
I  apprehend  that  we  are  to-day  the  least  social  people  on  earth,  and  that  this 
is  especially  true  of  our  purely  agricultural  districts.  The  idle  and  the  dissi 
pated  are  gregarious;  but  our  industrious,  sober,  thrifty  farming  population 
enjoy  too  little  of  each  other's  society.  In  the  Old  World,  for  the  most  part, 
the  tillers  of  the  soil  live  in  villages  or  hamlets,  surrounded,  at  distances  vary 
ing  from  ten  rods  to  three  miles,  by  the  lands  they  cultivate  and  sometimes 
own.  When  the  day's  labor  is  over,  they  gather,  in  good  weather,  on  the  vil 
lage  green,  under  a  spreading  tree,  or  in  some  inviting  grove,  and  song  and 
story,  conversation  and  a  moonlight  dance,  are  the  cheap  solace  of  their  priva 
tions,  their  labors,  and  their  cares.  But  our  American  farms  are  islands,  sep 
arated  by  seas  of  forests  and  fencing,  and  our  farmers,  their  families,  and  la 
borers,  rarely  see  those  living  a  mile  or  two  away,  save  when  they  pass  in  the 
road,  or  meet  on  Sunday  in  church,  This  isolation  has  many  disadvantages, 
prominent  among  which  are  the  obstacles  it  interposes  to  the  adoption  of  im 
proved  processes  and  happy  suggestions.  As  "  iron  sharpeneth  iron,"  so  the 
simple  coming  together  of  neighbors  and  friends  brightens  their  intellects  and 
accelerates  the  process  of  thinking.  The  farmer  not  merely  profits  by  the 
narrations  of  his  neighbor's  experience  and  experiments  in  this  or  that  field 
of  production,  —  he  gains  quite  as  much  by  the  stimulus  given  to  his  desire 
for  improvement  as  by  the  facilities  afforded  for  gratifying  that  desire.  It  is 
well  that  he  should  be  enabled  to  share  the  benefits  of  others'  observations  and 
achievements ;  it  is  even  better  that  he  should  be  incited  to  observe  and  achieve 
for  himself.  But,  more  than  all  else,  it  is  important  that  he  should  now  and 
then  be  lifted  out  of  the  dull  routine  of  ploughing,  tilling,  and  reaping,  that  he 
should  be  reminded  that  "  the  life  is  more  than  meat,"  and  that  the  growing 
of  grain  and  grass,  the  acquisition  of  flocks  and  herds,  are  means  of  living,  not 
the  ends  of  life.  Especially  is  it  important  to  give  a  more  social,  fraternal,  in 
tellectual  aspect  to  our  rural  economy,  in  view  of  the  needs  and  cravings  of 
the  rising  generation,  who,  educated  too  little  to  enjoy  solitude  and  their  own 
thoughts,  too  much  to  endure  the  life  of  oxen,  are  being  unfitted  by  their  very 
acquirements  for  the  rural  existence  which  satisfied  their  less  intellectual,  less 
cultivated  grandfathers.  It  is  the  most  melancholy  feature  of  our  present  so 
cial  condition  that  very  few  of  our  bright,  active,  inquiring,  intellectual  youth 
are  satisfied  to  grow  up  and  settle  down  farmers.  After  all  the  eloquence  and 
poetry  that  have  been  lavished  upon  the  farmer's  vocation,  —  its  independence, 
its  security,  its  dignity,  its  quiet,  its  happiness,  —  there  are  not  many  decidedly 
clever  youth,  even  in  the  households  of  fanners,  who  are  deliberately  choosing 


HORACE  GREELEY'S  ADVICE  TO  AMERICAN  FARMERS.   595 

the  fanner's  calling  as  preferable  to  all  others.  Hundreds  drift  or  settle  into 
agriculture  because  they  cannot  acquire  a  professional  training,  or  because 
they  hate  to  study,  or  because  they  cannot  get  trusted  for  a  stock  of  goods,  or 
for  some  one  of  a  hundred  other  such  reasons ;  very  few  because  they  decidedly 
prefer  this  life  to  any  other.  Advertise  in  the  same  paper  to-morrow  for  a 
clerk  in  a  store  and  for  a  man  to  work  on  a  farm,  the  wages  in  each  case  being 
the  same,  and  you  will  have  twenty  applications  for  the  former  place  to  one  for 
the  latter.  This  fact  argues  a  grave  error  somewhere ;  and,  as  I  don't  believe  it 
is  in  human  nature,  nor  in  that  Providential  necessity  which  requires  most  of 
us  to  be  farmers,  I  must  believe  it  is  to  be  detected  in  the  arrangements  and 
conditions  under  which  farm  labor  is  performed.  We  must  study  out  the  de 
fect  and  amend  it.  When  the  rural  neighborhood  shall  have  become  more 
social  and  the  farmer's  home  more  intellectual,  when  the  best  books  and  peri 
odicals,  not  only  agricultural  but  others  also,  shall  be  found  on  his  evening 
table,  and  his  hired  men  be  invited  to  profit  by  them,  the  general  repugnance 
of  intellectual  youth  to  farming  will  gradually  disappear. 

IX.  Nor  can  I  refrain  from  insisting  on  the  beautifying  of  the  farmer's 
homestead  as  one  of  the  most  needed  reforms  in  our  agricultural  economy.  We 
Americans,  as  a  people,  do  less  to  render  our  homes  attractive  than  any  other 
people  of  equal  means  on  earth.  And  for  this  there  is  very  much  excuse.  We 
are  "  rolling  stones  "  which  have  not  yet  found  time  to  gather  any  very  grace 
ful  moss.  We  are  on  our  march  from  Western  Europe  to  the  shores  of  the 
Pacific,  and  have  halted  from  time  to  time  by  the  way,  but  not  yet  settled. 
That  sacred  and  tender  attachment  to  home  which  pervades  all  other  human 
breasts  has  but  slender  hold  upon  us.  There  are  not  many  of  us  who  would 
not  sell  the  house  over  his  own  head  if  he  were  offered  a  good  price  for  it. 
Not  one  fourth  of  us  now  live  in  the  houses  in  which  we  were  born ;  not  half 
of  us  confidently  expect  to  die  in  the  homes  we  now  occupy.  Hence  we  can 
not  be  expected  to  plant  trees,  and  train  vines,  and  set  flowering  shrubs,  as  we 
might  do  if  we  had,  in  the  proper  sense  of  the  word,  homes.  But  we  ought  to 
have  homes,  —  we  ought  to  resolve  to  have  them  soon.  I  would  say  to  every 
head  of  a  family:  Whatever  else  you  may  do  or  forbear  to  do,  select  your  home 
forthwith,  and  resolve  to  abide  by  it.  Let  your  next  move,  if  move  you  must, 
be  inflexibly  your  last.  I  would  say  to  our  youth:  Never  marry,  never  fix 
upon  any  place  of  abode  or  occupation,  until  you  shall  have  selected  your 
home.  If  you  will  have  it  in  Oregon  or  California,  so  be  it;  but  fix  it  some 
where,  and  so  soon  as  may  be ;  at  least  before  you  form  any  other  ties  that 
promise  to  be  enduring.  Though  it  be  but  a  hut  on  a  patch  of  earth,  let  it  be 
your  fixed  home  evermore,  and  begin  at  once  to  improve  and  beautify  it  in 
every  hour  that  can  be  spared  from  more  pressing  avocations  and  needful  re 
pose.  So  shall  your  later  years  be  calm  and  tranquil,  so  shall  you  realize  and 
diffuse  the  blessedness  which  inheres  in  that  sacred  temple,  home ! 

The  one  great  point  of  superiority  enjoyed  by  our  countrymen  over  their 
cousins  in  Western  Europe  is  the  facility  wherewith  every  American  who  is 
honest,  industrious,  and  sober  may  acquire,  if  he  does  not  already  possess,  a 
homestead  of  his  own ;  not  a  leasehold  from  some  great  capitalist  or  feudal 


596  APPENDIX. 

baron,  but  a  spot  of  earth  of  which  no  man  may  rightfully  dispossess  him  so 
long  as  he  shall  shun  evil  courses  and  live  within  his  means.    In  Europe,  on 
the  other  hand,  save  in  France,  but  a  small  minority  of  the  workers  own  the 
lands  they  till,  the  dwellings  they  inhabit,  while  a  large  proportion  even  of  the 
thrifty  and  forehanded,  including  some  who  would  here  be  deemed  quite  rich, 
cannot  call  one  foot  of  earth  their  own.     To  own  arable  land  in  Great  Britain 
is  a  mark  of  social  distinction,  a  badge  of  high  caste,  so  that  estates  are  held 
at  prices  which  hardly  yield  three  per  cent  to  the  producers,  and  only  the 
very  wealthy  can  really  afford  to  be  owners  of  land.     But  here  there  is  not  a 
youth  of  eighteen  to-day  who  cannot,  by  simple  industry,  economy,  and  tem 
perance,  have  his  own  farm  of  fifty  to  a  hundred  acres  of  fair  land  by  the  time 
he  shall  have  attained  the  age  of  twenty-five ;  and  it  is  an  amazing  fact  that 
two  thirds  of  our  youth  seem  utterly  heedless  of  this  opportunity,  wasting 
their  days  and  their  dollars  in  frivolous  amusements  or  rash  speculations,  and 
suffering  ripe  manhood  to  creep  upon  them  while  still  drifting  with  the  tide, 
with  greedy  ears  for  every  tale  of  a  new  California,  Australia,  Sonora,  or 
Nicaragua,  but  blind  to  the  truth  that  to  the  instructed  brain  and  willing  hand 
every  field  is  a  placer,  and  that  gold  is  acquired  far  more  surely  in  Indiana 
than  in  new  Caledonia.     Youth  being  thus  squandered  on  delusive  hopes  and 
vain  adventures,  the  cares  and  burdens  of  an  increasing  family  bar  the  way 
to  future  acquisition,  and  the  mistaken  dreamer,  who  in  his  youthful  prime 
regarded  the  slow  and  arduous  gains  of  the  hired  worker  with  contempt,  lives 
to  drag  out  forty  years  of  grudging  toil,  floating  from  farm  to  farm,  never  ris 
ing  above  that  necessity  of  living  from  hand  to  mouth  which  he  might,  while 
still  young  and  single,  have  vanquished  forever  by  five  years'  patient,  plod 
ding  industry.    Again  let  me  exhort  you,  young  men !  to  choose  your  future 
homes;  choose  where  you  will,  choose  carefully,  but  choose  soon,  and  re 
solve,  by  years  of  quiet  energy  and  patient  thrift,  to  make  them  your  own  for 
ever  ere  you  shall  be  weighed  down  by  the  heavy  burdens  of  riper  years. 
You  cannot  deliberately  choose  to  pass  your  lives  as  other  men's  hirelings; 
yet  this  is  the  end  to  which  you  drift  if  you  set  sail  from  the  haven  of  youth 
without  the  ballast  of  some  nest-egg,  fairly  earned  and  saved,  as  the  nucleus 
of  future  acquisitions.     The  rule  is  almost  infallible  that  the  yoting  man  who 
has  saved  nothing  out  of  the  earnings  of  his  first  year  of  independence  will 
never  earn  and  save  anything.    So,  on  the  other  hand,  he  who  can  say,  on  his 
twenty-second  birthday,  "  I  have  fairly  earned  what  I  could  during  the  past 
year,  have  saved  fully  half  of  it,  and  owe  no  man  a  dollar,"  is  morally  certain, 
if  his  life  and  health  be  spared,  to  win  his  way  steadily  to  independence  and 
competence.    It  is  the  first  step  that  counts  as  well  as  costs ;  let  our  young 
men  be  entreated  to  take  that  step  thoughtfully  and  in  the  right  direction. 

How  light  the  occasional  labor  and  how  great  the  success  with  which  even 
the  humblest  home  may  be  enriched  and  beautified,  especially  by  tree-plant 
ing,  is  yet  but  imperfectly  realized.  Only  the  few  can  live  in  lordly  man 
sions:  but  roadside  elms  which  shade  the  lowliest  cot  may  be  as  stately  and 
graceful  as  any  that  stud  the  park  of  the  wealthiest  merchant,  the  proudest 
earl.  As  I  am  whirled  through  our  rural  districts,  and  see  house  after  house 


HORACE  GREELEY'S  ADVICE  TO  AMERICAN  FARMERS.   597 

unsheltered  even  by  a  single  tree,  I  mourn  the  heedlessnoss,  the  blindness, 
which  thus  denies  them  an  ornament  and  comfort  so  completely  within  the 
reach  of  the  poorest.  The  farmer  who  goes  to  mill  or  to  market  may  return 
with  a  sapling  which,  once  fairly  planted  (and  it  is  a  good  half-day's  work  to 
prepare  the  ground  for  and  properly  plant  a  tree)  and  effectually  shielded  from 
injury,  will  be  a  solace  and  a  joy  to  his  family  and  their  successors  for  centu 
ries.  In  a  country  whose  forests  are  so  rich  in  admirable  trees  as  are  ours,  — 
where  the  buckeye,  the  tulip,  the  elm,  the  maple,  the  white-oak,  and  the  hickory 
are  so  easily  procured,  —  it  is  a  shame  that  even  one  human  habitation  so 
much  as  a  year  old  should  still  be  unblest  by  shade-trees.  Every  school-house, 
every  church,  —  at  least  where  land  can  still  be  bought  by  the  acre,  —  should 
be  half  hidden  by  a  grove  of  the  most  umbrageous,  hardy,  cleanly  trees,  and 
every  school-boy  should  consider  himself  a  debtor  by  at  least  one  tree  to  the 
little  edifice  in  which  the  rudiments  of  knowledge  were  first  instilled  into  his 
understanding,  until  such  a  grove  shall  there  have  been  completed. 

X.  In  our  capricious,  fervid  climate,  we  need  shade-trees ;  but  not  these 
alone.  The  dearth  of  fruit,  especially  in  the  West,  is  still  almost  universal. 
Not  one  dwelling  in  ten  is  flanked  and  backed  by  such  a  belt  of  apple,  peach, 
pear,  cherry,  quince,  and  plum  trees  as  should  thrive  there.  Of  grapes,  there 
is  not  a  vine  where  there  should  be  a  hundred.  Even  the  hardy  and  easily 
started  currant-bush  is  not  half  so  abundant  as  it  deserves  to  be.  Most  fann 
ers  would  deem  it  a  waste  to  devote  two  square  rods  of  each  of  their  gardens 
to  the  strawberry;  while  the  bare  idea  of  cultivating  raspberries  or  blackber 
ries  strikes  a  large  majority  of  them  as  intensely  ridiculous.  Now  there  is  no 
dispute  as  to  the  folly  of  cultivating  that  which  abounds  on  every  side  and 
may  be  obtained  without  labor  or  care;  and  I  judge,  from  observations  on  the 
fence-sides  and  corners  of  many  farms,  that  the  cultivation  of  anything  of  the 
brier  kind  on  those  farms  would  be  a  most  superfluous  undertaking.  Yet  I  do 
not  the  less  insist  that  as  a  people  we  have  far  too  little  fruit,  and  that  most 
of  this  is  of  needlessly  inferior  quality :  that  the  grossness  of  our  food  is  the 
cause  of  many  painful  and  disabling  diseases  which  a  free  and  frequent  use 
of  good  fruit  would  prevent ;  that,  even  regarded  solely  in  the  light  of  profit, 
our  farmers  ought  to  grow  more  and  better  fruit,  both  for  their  own  use  and 
for  sale ;  and  that  noble  orchards  as  well  as  forests  must  in  time  diversify  the 
bare  landscape  even  of  the  great  prairies,  breaking  the  sweep  of  their  fierce 
winds,  and  increasing  the  salubrity  of  the  atmosphere,  and  contributing  in  a 
thousand  ways  to  the  physical  enjoyment  and  spiritual  elevation  of  man. 

I  leave  untouched,  for  this  occasion,  the  great  fields  of  drainage,  or  the  me 
chanical  preparation  of  the  soil  for  tillage ;  of  fertilizers,  or  its  material,  essen 
tial  improvement;  and  of  implements,  or  the  means  of  its  economical  cultiva 
tion  ;  for  my  hour  draws  to  a  close,  and  even  the  few  who  suppose  it  possible 
that  I  should  advance  some  ideas  worthy  of  consideration  are  not  willing  to  be 
hearers  forever.  Let  me  simply  add,  with  reference  to  these  departments  of 
agricultural  knowledge,  that  I  believe  we  are  on  the  verge  of  grand,  far-reach 
ing  transformations;  that  genius  and  science  are  destined  to  revolutionize  the 
production  of  grain,  as  they  have  already,  and  but  recently,  that  of  cloth ;  that 


598  APPENDIX. 

the  time  is  at  hand  when  combined,  organized  effort,  guided  by  the  ripest  ex 
perience,  the  fullest  knowledge,  will  produce  and  send  to  market  cargoes  of 
wheat,  corn,  oats,  &c.,  at  a  cost  per  bushel  and  in  a  profusion  with  which  in 
dividual  energy,  cramped  by  costly  division  fences,  stinted  in  capital,  using 
inferior  implements,  ploughing  feebly  and  shallowly  at  a  snail's  pace  a  foot  in 
width,  instead  of  tearing  up  and  pulverizing  an  acre  or  two  per  hour  to  a  depth 
of  two  or  three  feet,  and  using  the  muscle  of  men  and  animals  also  in  thrash 
ing  and  winnowing,  will  not  be  able  successfully  to  compete.  Indeed,  it  were 
idle  to  presume  that  the  genius  for  mechanical  invention,  which  has  so  re 
cently  revolutionized  household  industry  by  the  invention  of  the  spinning- 
jenny  and  the  power-loom,  resistlessly  taking  away  the  whole  business  of 
transmuting  fibres  into  fabrics  from  the  family  fireside  to  the  spacious  fac 
tory,  —  which  is  now  rapidly  effecting  a  still  further  transformation  in  sup 
planting  the  needle  by  the  sewing-machine,  —  and  which  is  soon  to  effect  a 
like  change  in  washing  and  in  the  operations  of  the  dairy,  —  will  leave  the 
husbandman  sowing  and  tilling  his  fields  as  his  father  and  grandfather  did 
before  him.  Already,  the  implements  required  to  till  a  farm  advantageously, 
in  number  and  cost  overtax  the  ability  of  the  average  farmer,  and  compel  him 
to  work  at  disadvantage  against  the  owner  of  broad  acres,  of  steam-power, 
seed-drills,  cultivators,  reapers,  and  threshing-machines.  This  disparity  is 
sure  to  increase,  lessening  the  relative  value  in  agriculture  of  mere  human 
muscle,  and  rendering  intellectual  force  and  training,  not  merely  an  advantage, 
but  an  absolute  necessity  to  all  who  would  not  sink  to  the  lowest  level  of  ab 
ject  drudgery.  But  to  the  instructed,  intelligent,  wide-awake  cultivator,  no 
change  which  the  future  has  in  store  threatens  evil  or  counsels  discourage 
ment.  For  him,  and  such  as  he  is,  every  advance  in  the  mastery  of  Nature 
by  man  is  a  personal  advantage  and  an  assurance  of  that  ultimate  triumph 
wherein,  every  atmospheric  change  being  foreseen  and  prepared  for,  every 
latent  force  of  Nature  evolved  and  rendered  useful,  the  marvels  of  chemistry 
shall  become  the  familiar  handmaids  of  tillage,  and  every  breeze  that  wanders 
idly  across  a  continent  shall  journey  laden  with  bounties  and  blessings  for  the 
human  race. 


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LIBRARY,  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  DAVIS 

Book  Slip-70m-9,'65(F7151s4)45S 


N2  418662 

.  9 


Parton,  J.  08 

The  life  of  P2 

Horace  Greeley.  1868 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


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